This will be the final post to ah-lam diary. For 3 years, and over 100 posts, this blog has chronicled my life's journey through the high's and low's. After talking extensively with friends and family, we feel that the time has come for me to move forward to try and use my life experiences as a blessing, encouragement and inspiration to others. Part of that involves moving my blog to a new format and a new website to allow me to connect with more people.
So, as of right now, ah-lam diary is closed. Please visit me at my new website:
www.alfredlam.ca
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
In a split second...anything can happen
Today started out just like any other day. Got up, drove Anna to work, dropped Taylor off at school, went to the office.
Travelled to another meeting that ended early. Had 15 minutes to spare before I had to pick up Taylor from school. Decided to stop by Chapters to browse. Found out my favorite photography author had just came out with the newest volume of his book series. Cool. Bought it.
Picked up Taylor, as usual. Buckle her in the car, as usual. Gave her her after school snack, as usual.
We started talking as I drove to pick up Anna. About 10 minutes into the ride, I suddenly heard her cough, and then stopped talking.
I turned, her mouth was opened. She was staring at me, desperatelly trying to tell me something. But no words came out. I instinctly knew what was happening...my daughter was choking...
I slammed on the brakes, stopped the car in the middle of a busy street at the height of rush hour, jumped out of my seat and rushed to her aid. Thankfully, she managed to gag and spit out the food and breathe again. She was crying. She was so scared. I held her...so tightly...."You are okay, sweetheart....you are okay...."
I would live 1000 years and never forget that look in my daughter's eyes: Filled will fear, desperately reaching for me, wanting to say, "Daddy! HELP ME!!!" but not being able to speak or breathe...
I had gone through tough times before, but I will gladly endure everything 100 times over rather than ever seeing that look on her face again...
I guess what I am trying say is simply this. In a split second, anything can happen.
Whatever you have been dreaming to do, the things that you have been meaning to say, the love that you have been wanting to give....
What are you waiting for?
Travelled to another meeting that ended early. Had 15 minutes to spare before I had to pick up Taylor from school. Decided to stop by Chapters to browse. Found out my favorite photography author had just came out with the newest volume of his book series. Cool. Bought it.
Picked up Taylor, as usual. Buckle her in the car, as usual. Gave her her after school snack, as usual.
We started talking as I drove to pick up Anna. About 10 minutes into the ride, I suddenly heard her cough, and then stopped talking.
I turned, her mouth was opened. She was staring at me, desperatelly trying to tell me something. But no words came out. I instinctly knew what was happening...my daughter was choking...
I slammed on the brakes, stopped the car in the middle of a busy street at the height of rush hour, jumped out of my seat and rushed to her aid. Thankfully, she managed to gag and spit out the food and breathe again. She was crying. She was so scared. I held her...so tightly...."You are okay, sweetheart....you are okay...."
I would live 1000 years and never forget that look in my daughter's eyes: Filled will fear, desperately reaching for me, wanting to say, "Daddy! HELP ME!!!" but not being able to speak or breathe...
I had gone through tough times before, but I will gladly endure everything 100 times over rather than ever seeing that look on her face again...
I guess what I am trying say is simply this. In a split second, anything can happen.
Whatever you have been dreaming to do, the things that you have been meaning to say, the love that you have been wanting to give....
What are you waiting for?
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Working on a new project
Aiya! Long time no post! These days, I am on the road a lot, busy visiting different non-profit community service agencies as part of a research project. In all my meetings, I am constantly amazed by how much good work these organizations do with the little resources that they have. They are staffed by passionate individual who earn, in some cases, embarrasingly low salaries. They work with shoe-string budgets, crammped office spaces, and outdated equipment. But whenever they talk about the work that they do, their eyes light up and their passion comes through.
Part of the project I am doing involves trying to find ways to mobilize volunteers in the community to get involved in what these agencies do. It has been a great learning experience for me as well! Just this week I met with an organization that serves people living with AIDS and an opportunity opened up for me to get involved with them, helping to train their public speakers. A lot of the details still need to be worked out, but I can't wait!
My new website is being worked on, and hopefully will be ready to be announced in a couple of weeks. I have done most of the writing, and now we are working on the look and feel of it and some design issues.
Hope you are having a great summer, and stay tuned for the launch of the new site!
Part of the project I am doing involves trying to find ways to mobilize volunteers in the community to get involved in what these agencies do. It has been a great learning experience for me as well! Just this week I met with an organization that serves people living with AIDS and an opportunity opened up for me to get involved with them, helping to train their public speakers. A lot of the details still need to be worked out, but I can't wait!
My new website is being worked on, and hopefully will be ready to be announced in a couple of weeks. I have done most of the writing, and now we are working on the look and feel of it and some design issues.
Hope you are having a great summer, and stay tuned for the launch of the new site!
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
I'm still waiting...
Today I was invited to speak to a Seniors group about the importance of getting involved with the community. I encouraged them by telling them that apart from performing various tasks with different agencies, volunteering can also be a way that they can establish new friendships in the community and sharing their valuable life experiences. Many of the seniors live lonely and isolated lives and I tried to encourage them to never think they have nothing worth contributing.
I concluded my speech by sharing this photograph, which I called "Waiting". I shared with them that when I look at this photograph, the tree looks so lonely. It was as if he is standing alone, staring at the barrenness of winter, just standing there, waiting...but not even sure what he is waiting for. But then I told them to look closely at the tree, (you can't see it very well here). If you look closely, you will actually see that even though the tree looks lifeless and bare, on the branches there are actually small buds...quiet signs of new life.
After the talk, the lady who was in charge of the program came up to me and shared with me her own experiences and struggles in life. She thanked me for the words and the picture and said she was encouraged to "keep waiting". She wasn't even supposed to be there today, but had to cover for another colleague who had been transferred to another job. I couldn't help but think that perhaps she was "meant to be there". Even though she was not religious...perhaps Someone was looking out for her just the same...
At night, my wife shared with me a funeral service she attended during the day. The minister spoke from Psalm 23: "The Lord is my shepherd..." The first thing the minister said was "This psalm tells us that the Lord is our shepherd. But he is not everybody's shepherd. He is only shepherd to those who are Christians..."
sigh.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
new thought on 'healing'...
Just came back from a wonderful lunch with my pastor (at Burger King, of all places!! More proof that it is the company rather than the food that makes the dining experience worthwhile :). During our time together I had one of those moments where I heard myself saying something and then thinking, "Damn!! That was good! Gotta write it down quick." So...here we are :)
My pastor asked me, "How is your healing process coming along?" I thought for a while and then I uttered the following profound statement: (Which, if I had lived 2,000 years ago, I am quite sure would've made it into the New Testament Canon :)
"I am slowly learning that healing happens not so much when you notice an absence of pain, but rather when you develop the perspective to see how the injury fits into the story that is your life, and then you learn to embrace that pain so that it's part of your story moving forward."
So...there you go. Another one for the "Alfred-ism" folder. :)
My pastor asked me, "How is your healing process coming along?" I thought for a while and then I uttered the following profound statement: (Which, if I had lived 2,000 years ago, I am quite sure would've made it into the New Testament Canon :)
"I am slowly learning that healing happens not so much when you notice an absence of pain, but rather when you develop the perspective to see how the injury fits into the story that is your life, and then you learn to embrace that pain so that it's part of your story moving forward."
So...there you go. Another one for the "Alfred-ism" folder. :)
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
New Start Coming!!
October 25, 2006.
That was the date Ah-Lam's Diary was born. My very first blog entry.
Sitting down tonight and reading through my past entries and comments from others, it is amazing to to me how this blog had been a chronicle of my life's journey for the last 2.5 years. It 'documented' the absolute lowest moments of my life thus far, but even so, reading my old entries tonight have shown me a sense of direction in my life's narrative.
In an entry dated November 21 2006, I posted a list of questions that I was wrestling deeply with. I concluded with: "Why is it that after 16 years as a pastor, I feel more and more lonely and less and less at home in the church community?" The very next entry documented me turning down opportunities to serve in Christian organizations and ventured out to volunteer for the Aids Committee of Toronto. Little did I know at the time, that would prove to be the beginning of a major turning point in my life.
The following year, I was diagnosed with depression. I cannot describe the sense of absolute and utter darkness and hopelessness that became my everyday life. More than once I had seriously contemplated suicide. During that period of darkness I made a mistake that would change my life forever. In the aftermath, I left professional ministry, and the church community that I had devoted practically my entire adult life to serving.
At that time, I looked for friendship among those I trusted the most within the church, instead I found rejection and betrayal that to this day stab at my heart. I was casted off, and thus began my exile from the Christian community for over a year. In many ways, I was "wandering in the wilderness".
But as it is so often the case within the Biblical narrative, it is in the wilderness that one hears God's voice, and new life begins to germinate...
The point of this is not to rehash old wounds. Rather, through looking back now, I see a direction to my life that I haven't noticed as clearly before. From my increasing feeling of being a "stranger" within the institutional church, to my experience of speaking to secular audiences as part of my work now, to the project in Sichuan where I used music and the spoken word to encourage the students in an non-religious setting, I feel more and more certain that perhaps the purpose of my life is to use my gifts and abilites in word and music to bring encouragement to those outside of the religious circles. From speaking in a Mosque in North York to performing in a school in Sichuan, I have noticed a common need: people's hearts need to be ministered to.
In many ways, the trip to Sichuan was the "final push" for me. As such, in the very near future I will be taking another major step forward in this journey. I will be closing this blog, and migrating it over to a new personal website where I will continue to write with the intention of encouraging readers. Additionally, I will launch a new website that I hope will be a new written word platform for "marginalized" voices. I will also be looking to be active in the community doing concerts and speaking events, all with the simple intention of being an 'encouragement' to whomever I cross paths with. Stay tune for these exciting new beginnings, and for those of you who are the "praying types", please remember me.
So, in the very near future, we will say good-bye to "Ah-Lam". But at the same time, we will say hello to "Alfred", hopefully another step closer to whom I was made to be...
That was the date Ah-Lam's Diary was born. My very first blog entry.
Sitting down tonight and reading through my past entries and comments from others, it is amazing to to me how this blog had been a chronicle of my life's journey for the last 2.5 years. It 'documented' the absolute lowest moments of my life thus far, but even so, reading my old entries tonight have shown me a sense of direction in my life's narrative.
In an entry dated November 21 2006, I posted a list of questions that I was wrestling deeply with. I concluded with: "Why is it that after 16 years as a pastor, I feel more and more lonely and less and less at home in the church community?" The very next entry documented me turning down opportunities to serve in Christian organizations and ventured out to volunteer for the Aids Committee of Toronto. Little did I know at the time, that would prove to be the beginning of a major turning point in my life.
The following year, I was diagnosed with depression. I cannot describe the sense of absolute and utter darkness and hopelessness that became my everyday life. More than once I had seriously contemplated suicide. During that period of darkness I made a mistake that would change my life forever. In the aftermath, I left professional ministry, and the church community that I had devoted practically my entire adult life to serving.
At that time, I looked for friendship among those I trusted the most within the church, instead I found rejection and betrayal that to this day stab at my heart. I was casted off, and thus began my exile from the Christian community for over a year. In many ways, I was "wandering in the wilderness".
But as it is so often the case within the Biblical narrative, it is in the wilderness that one hears God's voice, and new life begins to germinate...
The point of this is not to rehash old wounds. Rather, through looking back now, I see a direction to my life that I haven't noticed as clearly before. From my increasing feeling of being a "stranger" within the institutional church, to my experience of speaking to secular audiences as part of my work now, to the project in Sichuan where I used music and the spoken word to encourage the students in an non-religious setting, I feel more and more certain that perhaps the purpose of my life is to use my gifts and abilites in word and music to bring encouragement to those outside of the religious circles. From speaking in a Mosque in North York to performing in a school in Sichuan, I have noticed a common need: people's hearts need to be ministered to.
In many ways, the trip to Sichuan was the "final push" for me. As such, in the very near future I will be taking another major step forward in this journey. I will be closing this blog, and migrating it over to a new personal website where I will continue to write with the intention of encouraging readers. Additionally, I will launch a new website that I hope will be a new written word platform for "marginalized" voices. I will also be looking to be active in the community doing concerts and speaking events, all with the simple intention of being an 'encouragement' to whomever I cross paths with. Stay tune for these exciting new beginnings, and for those of you who are the "praying types", please remember me.
So, in the very near future, we will say good-bye to "Ah-Lam". But at the same time, we will say hello to "Alfred", hopefully another step closer to whom I was made to be...
Monday, July 13, 2009
Sichuan Reflection: It's Always in the Little Things
Wow...I had promised to share about some of my experiences in Sichuan after given time to 'process' everything. I had no clue it would take me so long to 'make sense' of the whole experience and be able to write about it coherently. Rather than writing from the "big picture" perspective, I thought what may be helpful is for me to capture some of the small episodes that happened during the trip. I have often found that the most significant lessons are learned in the seemingly most insignificant moments...
It was our final day with the students in Sichuan. As scheduled, we would perform twice during the day to different groups of students, and in the evening there will be a final show in front of about 700 students and guests. After the first concert of the day, 2 students came up to me with a request. Since they were graduating, they really wanted to express their gratitude to their teachers and they asked if we can perform a song on their behalf that same night in the evening program. Right away two flags went up in my mind: First, the rundown for the evening program has been locked down and I knew it was a tight schedule. Second, for the song to have meaning, it really should come from the students rather than from us. I had wanted to politely say no, but something within me prompted: "Give this a chance, don't shoot it down..."
So I gave the students 2 challenges: First, I wanted them to check with the producer of the evening final concert to see if they can be slotted into the rundown. Second, I told them that I don't want to sing it. Rather, if they got permission from the producer, I want them to gather their entire class to perform the song, and I gave them a deadline of 2 hours to pull it off. As I watched the two of them ran off, I really didn't think they could get past our producer or they could get the graduating class together in a couple of hours.
To my surprise, that afternoon they came back to look for me after our second concert. With smiles on their faces, they said, "We are good to go!" One problem, none of them play any instruments. The only record they have of the song is in one of their cell phones. Again, something within me prompted: "Help them out." So I asked to listen to it. He held up the phone to my ear. It was a Mandarin song called "Wishing You Peace." I have never heard it before, but I quickly put together a simple accompliment on the guitar and told them, "OK! I play, you guys sing!" They were so excited as they ran off to tell their classmates...I wished I had my camera to capture their faces :-) I then found our pianist and told him what we are going to do. Poor guy, he didn't even have a chance to hear the song once. All I said to him was, "Ok, I have heard it once....just follow along....D Major." He said, "O.....Okay."
When I saw them on stage performing during the evening program and dedicating the song to their teachers, I was so glad we allowed it to happen. It was only then that I saw how important it was for them to give something back. The earthquake had taken away so much from them. It took away their homes, their parents, their friends and their health. In the year following, when they lived in substandard conditions in temporary shelters, it continued to strip away their dignity as humans. As I played guitar and looked into their eyes during the performance, I saw a pride and dignity restored. Not from what they "received" from us, but because they could choose to "give" of themselves again. Again, I was reminded of that simple truth: Our lives, our personhood, are measured not by how much we receive, but by how much we give.
It occured to me, upon reflection that if we truly believe "it is more blessed to give than to receive", this should have profound implications on everything from how we help others as individuals to global foreign aid policies: If we truly want to be a blessing, perhaps our ultimate goal should not simply be giving to others, but rather, giving to them AND enabling them to in turn, give.
Perhaps this has implications on all forms of giving as well? For instance, will this shape the way we do counselling? Rather than looking at counselling as helping individuals with their own issues as an end, may be the ultimate goal should be restoring that individual so he/she can in turn help others?
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Looking back on Sichuan...
Last night our music team gathered and had a debriefing session. For myself, it was literally the first time I had seen the other members since I had gotten back to Toronto. Almost as soon as we got back together, we started FD-ing again without missing a beat. (FD is a term we were introduced to by Brian, our member from Calgary when we were in Sichuan. It stands for "Fat Din" in Cantonese which means "being crazy".
It was Mandy's birthday and members of the Sichuan team secretly made a video for her with different people sending her birthday wishes and compiled into one video. Needless to say, tears flowed freely as she watched it.
During the evening, as we shared about our where we are at after the Sichuan trip, I began to notice one common thread...basically all six of us, despite different background and age (okay, okay, 5 of us were similar in age, being younger, with yours truly being "a little" more...let's say, 'matured'), were all at a point in life where we feel we want to do something different, but unsure of what, where, when, or how.
Could this be a reason why we were brought together as a team? Not just to put together the Sichuan music project, but also to help each other as we each pursuit our dreams and calling after the trip is over? Is it possible that there will be something in each of our dreams that we share in common that will bring us together again?
I can't wait...
It was Mandy's birthday and members of the Sichuan team secretly made a video for her with different people sending her birthday wishes and compiled into one video. Needless to say, tears flowed freely as she watched it.
During the evening, as we shared about our where we are at after the Sichuan trip, I began to notice one common thread...basically all six of us, despite different background and age (okay, okay, 5 of us were similar in age, being younger, with yours truly being "a little" more...let's say, 'matured'), were all at a point in life where we feel we want to do something different, but unsure of what, where, when, or how.
Could this be a reason why we were brought together as a team? Not just to put together the Sichuan music project, but also to help each other as we each pursuit our dreams and calling after the trip is over? Is it possible that there will be something in each of our dreams that we share in common that will bring us together again?
I can't wait...
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Sichuan Reflection - When all is said and done
"Hey! Welcome back! How was your trip?"
I don't know how many times I have been asked that in the last few days. In a way that is the most natural question to ask someone who's just returned from a trip. At the same time, for me at least, it has been a tremendously difficult question to answer meaningfully. How do you squeeze so much experience into a 30 second answer?
I have been trying to gather my thoughts to write about the trip on my blog. Even though I am slowly gaining some clarity, I am not quite yet at the point where memories, emotions, ideas and thoughts can be translated into words. I have been going through in my mind the different highlights on the trip, freezing moments and memories (music team: does that sound familiar? :) and playing them back in my mind like a slideshow. In the last couple of days, one image in particular has occupied my mind...
I was back in my Hong Kong hotel room after returning from Sichuan. Because the room only has one bed, Taylor had been sharing it with Anna and I. The first morning after I got back, I woke up a little earlier than usual. I looked over at Anna and Taylor who were still sleeping. After a few minutes, Taylor stirred, stretched, and after rubbing her eyes with her little hands, she opened them and saw me looking at her. With a smile that will melt any father's heart, she said, "Daddy, I am so glad you are back..."
That moment has taught me a great deal. It is natural after an experience like we had at Sichuan and ask: "What's next ?" The danger is that we get caught up in chasing after the next "episode", trying to duplicate and outdo the last experience. My little girl reminded me that life is not simply a collection of experiences. Life is not a photo-album. Rather, it is a flowing story, a narrative. A narrative where you continuously figure out "who am I?" "Why am I here?" "What am I called to do?". We all need a place, a space where we can feel safe to ask and think upon those questions. Different people have different names for that place. For me, that's where I call "home".
"Home" is the place where I always need to learn to return to. Bringing with me everything I have gathered during my wanderings, sorting out the treasure from the junk, and then ask, together with those I love and those who love me, "where do WE go next?"Without that "homecoming", I find that I live selfishly and foolishly. I ask only what "I" want, and I fail to see what is truly "real". Isn't that the lesson learned by the "prodigal son" in the Bible?
To all my teammates: You've all given so much on this journey, you must be so weary. Why don't you go "home", wherever that may be. Laid down you bags, put up your feet, and rest your body and soul for a while? Don't worry about the next step...that will come tomorrow, and tomorrow will always "take care of itself." For now, allow yourself to enjoy the warmth of being loved for simply being who you are, not what you do. Like me, there are those who are waiting for you, longing to say to you...
"I'm so glad you are back"
I don't know how many times I have been asked that in the last few days. In a way that is the most natural question to ask someone who's just returned from a trip. At the same time, for me at least, it has been a tremendously difficult question to answer meaningfully. How do you squeeze so much experience into a 30 second answer?
I have been trying to gather my thoughts to write about the trip on my blog. Even though I am slowly gaining some clarity, I am not quite yet at the point where memories, emotions, ideas and thoughts can be translated into words. I have been going through in my mind the different highlights on the trip, freezing moments and memories (music team: does that sound familiar? :) and playing them back in my mind like a slideshow. In the last couple of days, one image in particular has occupied my mind...
I was back in my Hong Kong hotel room after returning from Sichuan. Because the room only has one bed, Taylor had been sharing it with Anna and I. The first morning after I got back, I woke up a little earlier than usual. I looked over at Anna and Taylor who were still sleeping. After a few minutes, Taylor stirred, stretched, and after rubbing her eyes with her little hands, she opened them and saw me looking at her. With a smile that will melt any father's heart, she said, "Daddy, I am so glad you are back..."
That moment has taught me a great deal. It is natural after an experience like we had at Sichuan and ask: "What's next ?" The danger is that we get caught up in chasing after the next "episode", trying to duplicate and outdo the last experience. My little girl reminded me that life is not simply a collection of experiences. Life is not a photo-album. Rather, it is a flowing story, a narrative. A narrative where you continuously figure out "who am I?" "Why am I here?" "What am I called to do?". We all need a place, a space where we can feel safe to ask and think upon those questions. Different people have different names for that place. For me, that's where I call "home".
"Home" is the place where I always need to learn to return to. Bringing with me everything I have gathered during my wanderings, sorting out the treasure from the junk, and then ask, together with those I love and those who love me, "where do WE go next?"Without that "homecoming", I find that I live selfishly and foolishly. I ask only what "I" want, and I fail to see what is truly "real". Isn't that the lesson learned by the "prodigal son" in the Bible?
To all my teammates: You've all given so much on this journey, you must be so weary. Why don't you go "home", wherever that may be. Laid down you bags, put up your feet, and rest your body and soul for a while? Don't worry about the next step...that will come tomorrow, and tomorrow will always "take care of itself." For now, allow yourself to enjoy the warmth of being loved for simply being who you are, not what you do. Like me, there are those who are waiting for you, longing to say to you...
"I'm so glad you are back"
Friday, June 12, 2009
Road to Sichuan - Finding Redemption in the midst of Brokenness (1)
It has been a while since my last blog entry. In my last couple of posts I shared with you some of the significant events in my own life journey, including running my first road race in years and taking part in communion for the first time in 2 years. In the last few weeks, my journey took me to the last place I had expected to go: Sichuan, China - the place of the devastating earthquake back on May 12, 2008.
Through a series of unexpected events, many of them unbeknown to me, I was invited to be a part of a large project to bring different art forms to Beichuan Middle School in Sichuan, China. Beichuan Middle School was located in one of the most devastated areas during the earthquake. The school itself was completely demolished, with about 1600 students and teachers (about half the population of the school) killed or missing. It was the the hardest hit school in the disaster, drawing visits afterwards from Premier Wen JiaBao. I was asked to lead a team of musicians to perform a series of concerts/workshops for the students. The different art forms represented in the larger team included: Visual Arts, Painting, Dance, Crafts, Stage theatre, with another team coordinating recreational and educational games and activities, and a team of youth mentors to chat with the students.
I am now sitting in my Hong Kong hotel room, having just completed the project with the final show last night and returning to Hong Kong this morning. It was a tightly packed trip right up to the final moments: I literally got off the stage after the final show and hopped on to the bus for a two hour ride to Chengdu, the capital city of Sichuan for an early morning flight out to Hong Kong the next morning. This is the first opportunity for me to reflect on the whole experience. As I do, I am just beginning to realize the magnitude of what just happened and how precious an experience this is. Because of the special importance and high profile of the school, it was truly a once in a lifetime opportunity that I was given to be a part of this effort. So far on this trip, there has been so many life-changing moments of historic importance:
- Being in Hong Kong at the 20th anniversary of the 6-4 event in Tiananmen Square, and being able to witness the historic march and be present with 150,000 people at the candle light gathering.
- Having the opportunity to visit some of the most devastated areas during the earthquake. Nothing in my lifetime has prepared me to witness the degree of devastation, even a year after the fact. Mountains crumbled and the land literally opened up. As I quietly stood among the rubble, I thought about the meaning of the expression: "The blood of the people cries out from the ground..."
- Meeting the students who survived the earthquake and hearing their stories, I found renewed faith in the indominable strength of the human spirit. The resiliance and the dignity that they live with absolutely humbled me.
- In each of the concerts, seeing the music moving the students to open up: tears flowed freely as they shared their experiences. For all of the musicians, we were literally drained of emotions and tears by the end of the final show.
- Given the threat of the H1N1 situation, it was a miracle that the project took place at all.
I experienced so much during this trip that I am completely overwhelmed in every way possible. I think it will take me a long time to process everything that happened. What I'd like to do is that over the next few entries on this blog, I will share about different aspects of the trip. I took over 1,000 shots and I will share some of those photos as well.
As I sit and write this, once again I realized that every experience in life is part of a larger context of redemption. For myself, this trip has been a chapter in my journey that was definitely not authored and orchestrated by me. Over the next few entries, I look forward to discovering some of the life-changing lessons that I learned, together with you.
Stay tuned.
-
Through a series of unexpected events, many of them unbeknown to me, I was invited to be a part of a large project to bring different art forms to Beichuan Middle School in Sichuan, China. Beichuan Middle School was located in one of the most devastated areas during the earthquake. The school itself was completely demolished, with about 1600 students and teachers (about half the population of the school) killed or missing. It was the the hardest hit school in the disaster, drawing visits afterwards from Premier Wen JiaBao. I was asked to lead a team of musicians to perform a series of concerts/workshops for the students. The different art forms represented in the larger team included: Visual Arts, Painting, Dance, Crafts, Stage theatre, with another team coordinating recreational and educational games and activities, and a team of youth mentors to chat with the students.
I am now sitting in my Hong Kong hotel room, having just completed the project with the final show last night and returning to Hong Kong this morning. It was a tightly packed trip right up to the final moments: I literally got off the stage after the final show and hopped on to the bus for a two hour ride to Chengdu, the capital city of Sichuan for an early morning flight out to Hong Kong the next morning. This is the first opportunity for me to reflect on the whole experience. As I do, I am just beginning to realize the magnitude of what just happened and how precious an experience this is. Because of the special importance and high profile of the school, it was truly a once in a lifetime opportunity that I was given to be a part of this effort. So far on this trip, there has been so many life-changing moments of historic importance:
- Being in Hong Kong at the 20th anniversary of the 6-4 event in Tiananmen Square, and being able to witness the historic march and be present with 150,000 people at the candle light gathering.
- Having the opportunity to visit some of the most devastated areas during the earthquake. Nothing in my lifetime has prepared me to witness the degree of devastation, even a year after the fact. Mountains crumbled and the land literally opened up. As I quietly stood among the rubble, I thought about the meaning of the expression: "The blood of the people cries out from the ground..."
- Meeting the students who survived the earthquake and hearing their stories, I found renewed faith in the indominable strength of the human spirit. The resiliance and the dignity that they live with absolutely humbled me.
- In each of the concerts, seeing the music moving the students to open up: tears flowed freely as they shared their experiences. For all of the musicians, we were literally drained of emotions and tears by the end of the final show.
- Given the threat of the H1N1 situation, it was a miracle that the project took place at all.
I experienced so much during this trip that I am completely overwhelmed in every way possible. I think it will take me a long time to process everything that happened. What I'd like to do is that over the next few entries on this blog, I will share about different aspects of the trip. I took over 1,000 shots and I will share some of those photos as well.
As I sit and write this, once again I realized that every experience in life is part of a larger context of redemption. For myself, this trip has been a chapter in my journey that was definitely not authored and orchestrated by me. Over the next few entries, I look forward to discovering some of the life-changing lessons that I learned, together with you.
Stay tuned.
-
Monday, May 18, 2009
Another Step Forward
This past Sunday we enjoyed an interesting worship service at our church. Rather than the "typical" teaching/preaching time, we had what was called a "family worship time": Each of us were given a piece of paper and crayons and we were encouraged to draw a picture in answer to certain questions about our experiences of God. There was a list of perhaps 15-20 questions to choose from, and we were told to simply pick one that "speaks" to us and draw a picture as a response.When I looked down the list of questions, I came to one that for some reason drew me in. The question was: "What would a reflection of God's smile look like?"
For some reason, I couldn't take my eyes away from the phrase "God's smile". On one hand, it sounded like something so abstract. But as I thought about it, slowly the abstract became concrete. In my mind I saw the smiles of Anna and Taylor. It then occured to me that the one place on earth where I experience what is closest to God's unconditional and undeserved love, and yes, see God's smile is at home. So I grabbed my crayons and paper and produced the above masterpiece :-)
Following the "family worship time", we had the weekly Lord's Supper time. A few "Worship stations" are set up with bread and wine, and members are encouraged to go up and partake the Lord Supper whenever they are ready. So far, I have never taken part in it. After my experience of betrayal and rejection by those whom I trusted the most in my former community, I really was not sure if I ever want to be a part of any Christian community again. But last Sunday, as I sat there looking down at the picture that I had drawn, "seeing" God's smile, for the first time in a long, long time, I felt "safe". Suddenly, at the same time Anna turned to me and asked, "would you like to go and partake the Jesus meal with me?" (That was the first time she's asked me.) I nodded yes, and we went up together. There was no fanfare, everyone was worshipping and reflecting in their own "space". But for the first time in almost 2 years, I took part in that rich, historical, symbolic act of Christian community. Clutching the picture in my hand, it was as if for the first time, I saw God smiling at me. As I quietly took the bread and the wine, the weekly repeated words rang in my ears with renewed meaning: "This is my body, broken, for YOU..."
Sunday, May 03, 2009
Finishing the Race!!
Today I did something that I hadn't done in a few years. I ran a road race.
I first got into distance running more than 10 years ago. It was during a time of personal turmoil, and I needed running as an outlet to channel my pain and release my stress. I remembered running my first marathon, the 1995 Toronto Marathon, and how it felt to finally cross the finish line.
I had hoped to finish at around 4 hours, it ended up taking me almost 5. I have run other marathons since then, but that day I learned the most important about life and running: In a long distance run, you are not competing against other runners. The challenge is the distance, and it means different things to different runners: For some, they run as a symbolic battle against an illness. Others chose to run in the midst of difficult personal circumstances to declare they are not going to quit. For all, the best part of the run is at the finish line, where you look back at the distance you conquered and whatever that represented to you and you say, "F**K YOU!!"
Today's race was only a 10K. The first race I have run in several years. But as soon as I left the house, all the familiar feelings and memories returned: the chill of the early morning air, the energy of the crowd at the start area, trying to stay warm after I checked in my warm up suit, the sound of the horn to begin the race...
After I finished and they put the medal around my neck, I felt almost lost in the sea of people (12,000 runners ran the race today!). I looked around and did not find anyone I know. I didn't even know what my time was. But it didn't matter. I looked down at the medal, and said to no one in particular, "I am back running. The road's got nothing on me..."
Friday, April 10, 2009
On Easter
This has been a special weekend for us. As part of the week-long surprise birthday celebration I planned for Anna, after I picked her up from work on Thursday evening, we drove 9 straight hours to spend the weekend in Chicago. Anna didn't suspect a thing! I even managed to pack her bags for the weekend, with all the right cloths, clean underwear for everyone, AND all her lotions and potions! (To all those of little faith and doubted if I can pull it off, let me hear you now...who's your daddy?? :)
It's been a while since the last time I drove 9 hours straight. But surprisingly I did ok. On the way down, Anna and I had a lot of time to talk. We talked about Taylor, we talked about our marriage, we talked about our plans for the future, we talked about our dreams, and we talked about our faith. We both noted that being away meant we won't be attending any church services or religious activities over the Easter weekend.
A few short years ago this would've been unthinkable. But life for us has changed over the last couple of years. To this day, we feel sad and hurt about the abandonment and betrayal we suffered from some in the church community that we had devoted our entire lives to. To this day, special days like Easter brings us saddness at the notion of being abandoned and left behind. But at the same time, we both felt that leaving that environment has done more to crystalize and grow our faith than anything else we have experienced in more than 20 years of being Christians. It has forced us to stop defining our faith by membership to an institution or attendence at meetings.
Rather, we now see our Christian faith as a daily decision to live the kind of lives that Jesus modelled for us. Jesus said, "I am the way..." We now see that Jesus did not come to start a "religion". Rather, He came to announce good news and to give us a model. The good news is that the Kingdom of God is here. God is here, and God is at work in doing something greater than we can ever imagine. Jesus then modeled a way of living, and offered us a Way to live that will allow our lives to become part of what God wants to do in the world.
This changes everything for us. For us, Easter no longer means attending a once a year special church service. Rather, we "celebrate" Easter daily by living with the conviction that today, and everyday, I can wake up to the reality that God wants to do something new in me and through me. As we talked on the long drive down to Chicago, we realized that throughout this journey, God has "overhauled" our lives and put in a whole bunch of new parts: our understanding of Him and His work, our appreciation for family and friendship, our marriage, our way of parenthood, among other things.
We had a great weekend with lots of good eats (Chicago deep dish pizza...yummm :) but we had to leave Chicago at 6am on Sunday morning because we wanted to catch Taylor's skating class in Toronto Sunday afternoon. As I drove off, I reflected on the whole weekend with all the laughter and good food, fun with Taylor, long talks with Anna, and it occured to me that this was probably the most meaningful Easter weekend that I have ever "attended". I looked out the car and saw the Sun just beginning to rise over the beautiful Chicago skyline. What a breath taking, beautiful sight! It was as if God was whispering: "Look! A new day has begun..."
It's been a while since the last time I drove 9 hours straight. But surprisingly I did ok. On the way down, Anna and I had a lot of time to talk. We talked about Taylor, we talked about our marriage, we talked about our plans for the future, we talked about our dreams, and we talked about our faith. We both noted that being away meant we won't be attending any church services or religious activities over the Easter weekend.
A few short years ago this would've been unthinkable. But life for us has changed over the last couple of years. To this day, we feel sad and hurt about the abandonment and betrayal we suffered from some in the church community that we had devoted our entire lives to. To this day, special days like Easter brings us saddness at the notion of being abandoned and left behind. But at the same time, we both felt that leaving that environment has done more to crystalize and grow our faith than anything else we have experienced in more than 20 years of being Christians. It has forced us to stop defining our faith by membership to an institution or attendence at meetings.
Rather, we now see our Christian faith as a daily decision to live the kind of lives that Jesus modelled for us. Jesus said, "I am the way..." We now see that Jesus did not come to start a "religion". Rather, He came to announce good news and to give us a model. The good news is that the Kingdom of God is here. God is here, and God is at work in doing something greater than we can ever imagine. Jesus then modeled a way of living, and offered us a Way to live that will allow our lives to become part of what God wants to do in the world.
This changes everything for us. For us, Easter no longer means attending a once a year special church service. Rather, we "celebrate" Easter daily by living with the conviction that today, and everyday, I can wake up to the reality that God wants to do something new in me and through me. As we talked on the long drive down to Chicago, we realized that throughout this journey, God has "overhauled" our lives and put in a whole bunch of new parts: our understanding of Him and His work, our appreciation for family and friendship, our marriage, our way of parenthood, among other things.
We had a great weekend with lots of good eats (Chicago deep dish pizza...yummm :) but we had to leave Chicago at 6am on Sunday morning because we wanted to catch Taylor's skating class in Toronto Sunday afternoon. As I drove off, I reflected on the whole weekend with all the laughter and good food, fun with Taylor, long talks with Anna, and it occured to me that this was probably the most meaningful Easter weekend that I have ever "attended". I looked out the car and saw the Sun just beginning to rise over the beautiful Chicago skyline. What a breath taking, beautiful sight! It was as if God was whispering: "Look! A new day has begun..."
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Thoughts from "loot bagging"
Today we took our little girl to a birthday party. Towards the end of the party I was watching the little kids as the host parents handed out the "loot bags", which are little "take away" bags with small toys and snacks .
As parents we know there is ONE cardinal rule when it comes to receiving loot bags. For those of you who are parents to be, learn this rule well: DO NOT, under any circumstances, allow your child to see what's in other kid's loot bags. Grab it, say thank you, and head out to the car. Do not stop, do not linger, do not look back. (Look what happened to Lot's wife!)
You see, here is the problem. The world will be very simple if the host parents simply hand out identical loot bags to every child. "One lollipop for you, one lollipop for you, one for you..." BUT in an effort to demonstrate that "personal touch", parents these days often arrange for "personalized loot bags". That's fine, except that when the kids get to see and compare loot bags, human nature takes over:
"Why does he gets the cool Buzz Lightyear action figure when I only get a frisbee? I don't like frisbees!"
"How come she gets the pink bag?"
"Awww...I want that one instead..."
I was thinking about this in church on Sunday. It occured to me that the same "why-can't-I-have-what-he's-got" question has some serious global implications. For so long, we have lived in world of extreme economic injustice. With the internet and global communications technologies, we can now see with our own eyes on the TV's in our kitchens the devastation of poverty and hunger in the poor nations, where every second a child dies from hunger related illnesses.
Meanwhile half way around the world...
A father whose child is dying because he cannot get the most basic medical care looks on the TV in the hospital. He sees the abundance we enjoy in North America. And he asks, "why can't my child have what they've got?"
I wonder...as a Christian, what should our voice be?
How do we justify the hundreds of millions we spend on ourselves in the form of church buildings, staff, facilities, programming, etc when children are starving to death?
We enjoy low priced products manufactured in countries with cheap labor costs. Most of us don't even think about the labor practice of those countries until we start losing manufacturing jobs.
I wonder...when I hear Christians praying for "economic recovery"...what are we asking for? Are we really asking God to return us to a situation where we can continue to enjoy our own abundance built on the back of an economic system that is unjust and oppressive? A system where we can continue to enjoy the largest and best "loot bags", while the children from the rest of the world look to us and ask "why can't I have what they have?"
I wonder...why is it so difficult for us as Christians to develop a worldview that is global and holistic?
Just some thoughts from loot bagging....
As parents we know there is ONE cardinal rule when it comes to receiving loot bags. For those of you who are parents to be, learn this rule well: DO NOT, under any circumstances, allow your child to see what's in other kid's loot bags. Grab it, say thank you, and head out to the car. Do not stop, do not linger, do not look back. (Look what happened to Lot's wife!)
You see, here is the problem. The world will be very simple if the host parents simply hand out identical loot bags to every child. "One lollipop for you, one lollipop for you, one for you..." BUT in an effort to demonstrate that "personal touch", parents these days often arrange for "personalized loot bags". That's fine, except that when the kids get to see and compare loot bags, human nature takes over:
"Why does he gets the cool Buzz Lightyear action figure when I only get a frisbee? I don't like frisbees!"
"How come she gets the pink bag?"
"Awww...I want that one instead..."
I was thinking about this in church on Sunday. It occured to me that the same "why-can't-I-have-what-he's-got" question has some serious global implications. For so long, we have lived in world of extreme economic injustice. With the internet and global communications technologies, we can now see with our own eyes on the TV's in our kitchens the devastation of poverty and hunger in the poor nations, where every second a child dies from hunger related illnesses.
Meanwhile half way around the world...
A father whose child is dying because he cannot get the most basic medical care looks on the TV in the hospital. He sees the abundance we enjoy in North America. And he asks, "why can't my child have what they've got?"
I wonder...as a Christian, what should our voice be?
How do we justify the hundreds of millions we spend on ourselves in the form of church buildings, staff, facilities, programming, etc when children are starving to death?
We enjoy low priced products manufactured in countries with cheap labor costs. Most of us don't even think about the labor practice of those countries until we start losing manufacturing jobs.
I wonder...when I hear Christians praying for "economic recovery"...what are we asking for? Are we really asking God to return us to a situation where we can continue to enjoy our own abundance built on the back of an economic system that is unjust and oppressive? A system where we can continue to enjoy the largest and best "loot bags", while the children from the rest of the world look to us and ask "why can't I have what they have?"
I wonder...why is it so difficult for us as Christians to develop a worldview that is global and holistic?
Just some thoughts from loot bagging....
Monday, March 16, 2009
Conflict
Today I looked at the work of an award winning photographer who "specializes" in war photography. In one collection of images he captured the brutal execution of a government soldier in the midst of the conflict in Burma, home of the longest running civil war on the planet.
The man who carried out the execution was an 18 year old young man who had joined a guerrilla army that was waging war against the government. Listen to the way his (brief) life was described by the photographer:
"when he was 12 years old, Burmese government troops came into his village and killed his mother and father right in front of him... they then bashed him in the head with a rifle butt and left him for dead... the boy survived this ordeal, but suffered the loss of his right eye - and the loss of his childhood... by the time I photographed the executions, he was 18 and a member of a special commando unit... his superior officer told me that the young man often had to be restrained after an engagement with government troops, to keep him from sneaking back to the corpses and eating body parts... when he carried out the executions, it was unimaginably savage and shocking - much of the worst of it I did not capture on film... he was oblivious to the horror, lost in a haze of hate and revenge... each stab of the blade was a way to get back for the loss of his parents, his eye, his childhood... A few months later, this same young man - who had both endured and caused so much suffering, was dead at 18, killed in a clash with government troops..."
When I looked at the images, two thoughts came to mind: First, from a photographer's eyes I felt as though the photographs gave voice to a person who had no voice, one whom the world had "left for dead". It fueled my conviction that art is important, because it helps the world to see the unseen and hear the voices of the muted. Secondly, as a person of faith, I asked "Does the brand of "Christianity" we preach and practice make any sense in that dark corner of the world?" How do we take our favorite lenses of "Right" and "Wrong" and view what was going on in the images?
As Christians, we have been conditioned to shrug our shoulders and say "That's a result of sin." We have developed an eschatology that conveniently offloads our moral responsibilites in the present by saying, effectively, "God will fix everything one day". We have built an entire religion on teaching people how to get to heaven one day in the future. But what about the present? What do we have to offer to the 18 year old commando, and others like him?
More and more, I have come to understand that the Bible looks at sin from a historical, generational, communal, macro and global perspective rather than simply as a list of thou-shalt-not-do's. Again, from a photograher's eyes, that means when I look at an image depicting the evils of the world, whether it is a brutal act of terrorism across the oceans or an episode of violence here on my streets, the question to ask is "Where is my hand in this?" I have learned that if we look carefully and thoughtfully enough, it's always there. Perhaps that's what Jesus meant when He said to those looking at the woman caught in sin: "Let him who is without sin cast the first stone."
For those who are interested in seeing the work of the photographer mentioned, go to:
(Warning: some images contain graphic violence)
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Out of the mouths of babes...
With our little one quickly reaching grade 1 (where did the last 4 years go?), we are going through the discussion that every parent in the city has had one time or another: "May be we should move into a 'better' school zone."
Now, we haven't actually decided to move yet, but when we are both working quite far from where we live right now, it seems to make sense. So yesterday in the car we casually brought up the subject with our little girl.
"Hey sweetie, what do you think of us moving into a different house?"
"NO!"
"But sweetie, you will get a different room, we will live closer to where you will go to school, may be there will be some nice parks nearby where you can play..."
"NOOOO! We are NOT going to move and I don't want to talk about it again, OKAY??"
(By the way, that was an exact quote)
End of discussion.
We were a little puzzled, so we probed a little further. We asked if it was because she likes her room, or the backyard, or if she thinks we will leave all her toys behind...we assured her that she will have all those things even if we move to another house. Neither one of us expected what came out of her mouth next.
"Yeah, but we won't be living beside Uncle Lou!"
Louie is our next door neighbor whose family have become quite good friends with us. They are immigrants from Europe from long ago (I always forget which country :-P ) . Louis is one of those guys who is always looking out for his friends and neighbors. He bought a snowblower this winter and I always see him helping others clean their driveways after he finishes his. In the Summer time, whichever one of us is out mowing the lawn, it's understood that we will do each other's front lawn while we are at it. When it's nice out, Louie is always sitting on his front porch with a beer and when we pull up to our driveway, Taylor always makes it a point to go over to give "Uncle Lou" a hug before going into our own house. She has become quite a hit with our neighbors!
What struck us about the conversation was that while we thought she didn't want to move because she was attached to "things", the truth is that at this young age, she has learned to value her "community". Something that as adults, we are prone to lose sight of.
It reminded me that as parents, it is all so easy to model a lifestyle that places the pursuit of success above everything else. Even in the church, it is so easy to forget something so simple and fundamental: people are important. People are more important than ideologies. People are more important than property. People are more important than institutions. People are more important than numbers and statistics. It still saddens me to think of the people who have been left behind and abandoned by the church in the name of progress, growth, politics, etc.
Meanwhile, in our own little situation of deciding whether to move or not, our little girl has just given us a whole new dimension to think about.
Now, we haven't actually decided to move yet, but when we are both working quite far from where we live right now, it seems to make sense. So yesterday in the car we casually brought up the subject with our little girl.
"Hey sweetie, what do you think of us moving into a different house?"
"NO!"
"But sweetie, you will get a different room, we will live closer to where you will go to school, may be there will be some nice parks nearby where you can play..."
"NOOOO! We are NOT going to move and I don't want to talk about it again, OKAY??"
(By the way, that was an exact quote)
End of discussion.
We were a little puzzled, so we probed a little further. We asked if it was because she likes her room, or the backyard, or if she thinks we will leave all her toys behind...we assured her that she will have all those things even if we move to another house. Neither one of us expected what came out of her mouth next.
"Yeah, but we won't be living beside Uncle Lou!"
Louie is our next door neighbor whose family have become quite good friends with us. They are immigrants from Europe from long ago (I always forget which country :-P ) . Louis is one of those guys who is always looking out for his friends and neighbors. He bought a snowblower this winter and I always see him helping others clean their driveways after he finishes his. In the Summer time, whichever one of us is out mowing the lawn, it's understood that we will do each other's front lawn while we are at it. When it's nice out, Louie is always sitting on his front porch with a beer and when we pull up to our driveway, Taylor always makes it a point to go over to give "Uncle Lou" a hug before going into our own house. She has become quite a hit with our neighbors!
What struck us about the conversation was that while we thought she didn't want to move because she was attached to "things", the truth is that at this young age, she has learned to value her "community". Something that as adults, we are prone to lose sight of.
It reminded me that as parents, it is all so easy to model a lifestyle that places the pursuit of success above everything else. Even in the church, it is so easy to forget something so simple and fundamental: people are important. People are more important than ideologies. People are more important than property. People are more important than institutions. People are more important than numbers and statistics. It still saddens me to think of the people who have been left behind and abandoned by the church in the name of progress, growth, politics, etc.
Meanwhile, in our own little situation of deciding whether to move or not, our little girl has just given us a whole new dimension to think about.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
"You encouraged people..."
Yesterday I had an interesting lunch date.
It all started a couple of weeks ago when I received a call at the office. It was a bad cell phone connection, and the person on the other end spoke with a bit of an accent so I wasn't able to pick out everything that was being said. Towards the end of the phone call he said, "I would love to invite you to lunch sometime to talk face to face." I heard the words "Invite" and "lunch", which immediately translated into "free" "food" in my dictionary, and promptly said "Yes!".
Over a delicious meal of Indian food, my friend told me that his agency is very interested in having me involved with them. Apparently I gave a speech at one of their sponsored public events, and afterwards the staff and leaders of the agency all wanted me to come on board with them. I expressed how honored I was by the invitation, but was curious of what was it about the speech that drew such a response. He thought about it a little, and said, "You encouraged people. And we want you to keep doing that with us."
I guess during this time of global economic doom and gloom, a dose of encouragement goes a lot further than in other times.
It all started a couple of weeks ago when I received a call at the office. It was a bad cell phone connection, and the person on the other end spoke with a bit of an accent so I wasn't able to pick out everything that was being said. Towards the end of the phone call he said, "I would love to invite you to lunch sometime to talk face to face." I heard the words "Invite" and "lunch", which immediately translated into "free" "food" in my dictionary, and promptly said "Yes!".
Over a delicious meal of Indian food, my friend told me that his agency is very interested in having me involved with them. Apparently I gave a speech at one of their sponsored public events, and afterwards the staff and leaders of the agency all wanted me to come on board with them. I expressed how honored I was by the invitation, but was curious of what was it about the speech that drew such a response. He thought about it a little, and said, "You encouraged people. And we want you to keep doing that with us."
I guess during this time of global economic doom and gloom, a dose of encouragement goes a lot further than in other times.
Monday, February 16, 2009
68 weeks
68.
That's how many weeks it has been since the last time I was "in church".
68 Sundays ago, I went for what I thought may be the last time. I said what I had to say. I drove away, alone.
The snow. It came early that year. It was snowing when I drove home. The road seemed so long, so cold.
As I drove away from the only Christian community I had known for 17 years, I remembered a thought coming to mind: "From now on, you are on your own..."
I was wrong. There were faithful friends who stood by me, who walked with me me through the darkest time of my life. If it weren't for them, the pain from being rejected and left behind would have overwhelmed me long ago.
68 weeks. More than a few times I have thought of setting foot in a church again. But the pain from being abandoned was too much. I couldn't risk entrusting myself to another community and risk being hurt again. In the beginning for a few weeks I would dropped my wife and little girl off at the front door of a church in our neighborhood. As my little girl get out of the car, she'd ask, "Daddy, are you going to church with us?" And I'd say, "May be next week, Sweetie..." After a few weeks of doing this, they stopped going too. Looking back, I think it was my wife's way of saying: "We will not leave you behind...we will wait with you until you are ready again."
68 weeks. Slowly we got used to life without church on Sundays. We'd sleep in a bit, go out for brunch at our favorite diner, do some grocery shopping, and get ready for another week of work and school. To be honest, it was actually quite enjoyable. We completely removed ourselves from the church "scene", from all the politics and gossip and all the "latest news". We limited our world to just us and the few who steadfastly remained our friends.
As the weeks rolled on, with the wounds from the past still fresh, slowly I felt an interest to go to church again. It wasn't a desire to "attend church". Rather, it was a longing to belong. I looked at my family and thought: "This isn't just about me. I don't want to deprive them of community..."
I didn't know where to go. I had no clue where this will lead. But slowly, I felt this "pull" that says: "It's time to turn the page and discover what's in the next chapter..."
68 weeks. It's been this long....
So, 68 weeks later, this past Sunday, I dropped off my wife and daughter at the front door of a friend's church.
I parked the car...
I walked up, took a deep breath...
and walked in.
That's how many weeks it has been since the last time I was "in church".
68 Sundays ago, I went for what I thought may be the last time. I said what I had to say. I drove away, alone.
The snow. It came early that year. It was snowing when I drove home. The road seemed so long, so cold.
As I drove away from the only Christian community I had known for 17 years, I remembered a thought coming to mind: "From now on, you are on your own..."
I was wrong. There were faithful friends who stood by me, who walked with me me through the darkest time of my life. If it weren't for them, the pain from being rejected and left behind would have overwhelmed me long ago.
68 weeks. More than a few times I have thought of setting foot in a church again. But the pain from being abandoned was too much. I couldn't risk entrusting myself to another community and risk being hurt again. In the beginning for a few weeks I would dropped my wife and little girl off at the front door of a church in our neighborhood. As my little girl get out of the car, she'd ask, "Daddy, are you going to church with us?" And I'd say, "May be next week, Sweetie..." After a few weeks of doing this, they stopped going too. Looking back, I think it was my wife's way of saying: "We will not leave you behind...we will wait with you until you are ready again."
68 weeks. Slowly we got used to life without church on Sundays. We'd sleep in a bit, go out for brunch at our favorite diner, do some grocery shopping, and get ready for another week of work and school. To be honest, it was actually quite enjoyable. We completely removed ourselves from the church "scene", from all the politics and gossip and all the "latest news". We limited our world to just us and the few who steadfastly remained our friends.
As the weeks rolled on, with the wounds from the past still fresh, slowly I felt an interest to go to church again. It wasn't a desire to "attend church". Rather, it was a longing to belong. I looked at my family and thought: "This isn't just about me. I don't want to deprive them of community..."
I didn't know where to go. I had no clue where this will lead. But slowly, I felt this "pull" that says: "It's time to turn the page and discover what's in the next chapter..."
68 weeks. It's been this long....
So, 68 weeks later, this past Sunday, I dropped off my wife and daughter at the front door of a friend's church.
I parked the car...
I walked up, took a deep breath...
and walked in.
Friday, February 06, 2009
The world would be a different place...
Last week I went downtown to attend a webcast workshop. After sitting down in a room with about 50 people, I saw the organizers running around frantically trying to get the webcast going. After the scheduled start time had come and gone, the girl who was in charge finally came out and told the crowd that because of a technical glitch, they were not able to log in to the webcast and we can either get a refund or she will email the presentation to us later for us to watch it on our own.
Most of the participants of the workshop had to arrange time away from the office and travelled a fair distance to go downtown. Understandably some were disappointed and a little annoyed. After I got back to the office, I sent a quick email to the organizer, just saying that I understand these things happen, and I've had it happened to me enough times to know.
To my surprise, the person wrote back. At the conclusion, the person wrote: "Thank you for your understanding, the world would be a different place if everyone sees things the way you do..."
All of a sudden I remembered a simple quote I read a lot time ago: "Always go out of your way to be kind....because everyone is fighting some sort of battle inside."
Most of the participants of the workshop had to arrange time away from the office and travelled a fair distance to go downtown. Understandably some were disappointed and a little annoyed. After I got back to the office, I sent a quick email to the organizer, just saying that I understand these things happen, and I've had it happened to me enough times to know.
To my surprise, the person wrote back. At the conclusion, the person wrote: "Thank you for your understanding, the world would be a different place if everyone sees things the way you do..."
All of a sudden I remembered a simple quote I read a lot time ago: "Always go out of your way to be kind....because everyone is fighting some sort of battle inside."
Thursday, January 29, 2009
feeling heavy....
Tomorrow I have an important presentation to make in efforts to secure funding for our agency. All day long, even though the staff was nervous about it, they tried not to bother me so I can focus on preparing for it. From my office, I could hear them working hard outside: Taking phone calls from people with all kinds of different needs and pointing them to the right services. New immigrants coming in asking for help. Talking to people who want to volunteer and sending them to the suitable volunteering opportunities. I couldn't help but be touched by them. They work for low pay and practically non-existent benefits. They have not had a raise in almost 8 years. Yet they toil quietly, without recognition and sometimes without appreciation, simply because they want to help make another person's life a little easier.
Hearing them work from within my office, I feel a heavy burden on my shoulders. Even though I have very little emotional stake in the organization, I feel a tremendous responsibility for the staff. I only hope I will be successful in our fund development efforts, not just to keep an agency going, but so these wonderful people can continue to make a difference in the community, one person at a time, one phone call at a time. I hope I can do my best tomorrow...for them.
Hearing them work from within my office, I feel a heavy burden on my shoulders. Even though I have very little emotional stake in the organization, I feel a tremendous responsibility for the staff. I only hope I will be successful in our fund development efforts, not just to keep an agency going, but so these wonderful people can continue to make a difference in the community, one person at a time, one phone call at a time. I hope I can do my best tomorrow...for them.
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