"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"
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
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.
Monday, January 26, 2009
A Chinese New Year photoshoot :-)
We were sitting at home on Chinese New Year's Eve with nothing much to do in the afternoon when we remembered that Taylor was supposed to wear a traditional Chinese costume to school the next day! As we dug through her closet bringing out the different outfits, we decided to do an impromptu photoshoot at home :-) Hope you enjoy the pics as much as Taylor enjoyed being in front of the camera :-)
http://picasaweb.google.ca/alfred.lam/ChineseNewYear?feat=directlink
http://picasaweb.google.ca/alfred.lam/ChineseNewYear?feat=directlink
Saturday, January 24, 2009
"Preached"!
Today I was invited to give a speech to a South Asian Community Group. They organized a community outreach conference on the needs of people living with disabilities and invited me to be the closing speaker. I was humbled by the invitation and was thankful that the speech was well received. The audience was gracious and I appreciated all the kind words afterwards. But it wasn't until I was on my way home that I had a chance to reflect on the experience.
I mentally replayed my speech in my head and I was surprised to see that while I made no "biblical references", the "biblical influence" behind the speech was obvious: I spoke of the inherent sacred dignity of each and every individual without mentioning the doctrine of the image of God. I talked about the reality that all of us live lives that are broken in someways and need help from others without using the word "sin". Again, without mentioning the biblical reference, I closed the speech on the truth behind the words, "it is more blessed to give than to receive."
When I thought about the experience some more, what surprised me was how much the crowd "embraced" the speech. The vast majority (99%) of them do not have a Christian background, and yet person after person came up to speak to me afterwards, some with tears in their eyes, affirming what they had heard. What started as a routine speaking engagement for me ended up being a major learning experience. I came away with a new found amazement of the universal appeal of the Bible, and I am convinced, more than ever before that the Bible is not a "religious book" that was written simply to "propagate" the Christian religion.
Who knows? Perhaps my "previous life" as a Christian minister or a "preacher" was meant to prepare me to become a "messenger". One who is sent to serve, and bring hope and encouragement to those who are outside the walls of the religious community?
I mentally replayed my speech in my head and I was surprised to see that while I made no "biblical references", the "biblical influence" behind the speech was obvious: I spoke of the inherent sacred dignity of each and every individual without mentioning the doctrine of the image of God. I talked about the reality that all of us live lives that are broken in someways and need help from others without using the word "sin". Again, without mentioning the biblical reference, I closed the speech on the truth behind the words, "it is more blessed to give than to receive."
When I thought about the experience some more, what surprised me was how much the crowd "embraced" the speech. The vast majority (99%) of them do not have a Christian background, and yet person after person came up to speak to me afterwards, some with tears in their eyes, affirming what they had heard. What started as a routine speaking engagement for me ended up being a major learning experience. I came away with a new found amazement of the universal appeal of the Bible, and I am convinced, more than ever before that the Bible is not a "religious book" that was written simply to "propagate" the Christian religion.
Who knows? Perhaps my "previous life" as a Christian minister or a "preacher" was meant to prepare me to become a "messenger". One who is sent to serve, and bring hope and encouragement to those who are outside the walls of the religious community?
Friday, January 16, 2009
Stranger in the bathroom!
A funny thing happened at work today...
Our new office is located in a building that also house a private school. This afternoon I went to use the men's room at the same time that the kids from the school were coming back from playing outside during recess. As I entered the bathroom, many of them were also beginning to line up to "go" themselves (I guess that's part of their daily routine). As I was getting "settled" in my stall, I heard a few of them whispering outside, "Who's that in there?"...
They must have been taught to speak up when they see strangers on school grounds, because next thing I knew, about 50 of them started chanting loudly: "Stranger in the bathroom! Stranger in the bathroom!"
Talk about ruining my mood for my "personal time"...I decided to get the heck out of there and made a quick retreat back to my office before someone call the police or something :-P
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
The Ted Haggard Story
This week I read about the Ted Haggard story, how the one time megachurch planter/pastor and President of the National Association of Evangelicals was treated when it was revealed 2 years ago that he had engaged in inappropriate sexual conduct. Apparently he signed an agreement with his church to not speak about the situation for 2 years, in exchange for a 1 year salary "pay-off". Now that 2 years have past, Haggard is ready to come out and tell his side of the story.
I know there are always 2 sides to every story, and I have no interest in debating who's right and who's wrong in the whole situation. What caught my eye, however, was when Haggard revealed that a sexually abusive experience from his childhood had left emotional scars and internal trauma that he had to privately struggle with his whole life. I believe there is a valuable lesson to be learned here.
From my own personal experience in this past year, I have learned that behind every sin, there is almost always a context of personal and private pain. Unfortunately, in the church so often we choose only to look at the sin, and not the pain that caused it. I am not suggesting that we excuse personal responsibility for sinful acts. Rather, I am suggesting that we need to learn to look at sin more holistically and (dare I say it?) more biblically: Sin is not only individual and personal. It is communal. It is generational. It is environmental. It is part of the narrative of both the human race and each individual lives. Each of us, because of our brokenness and sinfulness contribute in our own ways to cause pain in others, and that leads to more sinful and hurtful behavior. In a very real way, when a person sins, all of us have 'blood on our hands'. Perhaps that's the greater truth behind Jesus' words to the mob ready to stone the woman caught in adultery: "Let him who is without sin cast the first stone." Perhaps not everyone in that mob had commited the sin of adultery, but the truth is that each person there had a hand in the woman's sin.
Back when I was in seminary, my preaching professor once said, "If you learn to speak to the pain in people's lives, that will make you a better preacher." Today, I learned a greater truth: If you and I choose to see the pain in each person's lives rather than the "sins" they've committed, that will make us better people.
I know there are always 2 sides to every story, and I have no interest in debating who's right and who's wrong in the whole situation. What caught my eye, however, was when Haggard revealed that a sexually abusive experience from his childhood had left emotional scars and internal trauma that he had to privately struggle with his whole life. I believe there is a valuable lesson to be learned here.
From my own personal experience in this past year, I have learned that behind every sin, there is almost always a context of personal and private pain. Unfortunately, in the church so often we choose only to look at the sin, and not the pain that caused it. I am not suggesting that we excuse personal responsibility for sinful acts. Rather, I am suggesting that we need to learn to look at sin more holistically and (dare I say it?) more biblically: Sin is not only individual and personal. It is communal. It is generational. It is environmental. It is part of the narrative of both the human race and each individual lives. Each of us, because of our brokenness and sinfulness contribute in our own ways to cause pain in others, and that leads to more sinful and hurtful behavior. In a very real way, when a person sins, all of us have 'blood on our hands'. Perhaps that's the greater truth behind Jesus' words to the mob ready to stone the woman caught in adultery: "Let him who is without sin cast the first stone." Perhaps not everyone in that mob had commited the sin of adultery, but the truth is that each person there had a hand in the woman's sin.
Back when I was in seminary, my preaching professor once said, "If you learn to speak to the pain in people's lives, that will make you a better preacher." Today, I learned a greater truth: If you and I choose to see the pain in each person's lives rather than the "sins" they've committed, that will make us better people.
Monday, January 05, 2009
Happy New Year!
Wow! Can't believe 2009 is here already. It's been an interesting holiday season for us. On one hand it was very busy, as we were moving to a new office location and doing renovations at home at the same time. On the other hand, it was also quiet as we basically spent the holdays with family and a few close friends.
One of the highlights of my holiday was getting the opportunity to spend time with my old friend from HK. We have been friends for 28 years now, although we haven't seen each other in more than 5 years. He was the one that I blogged about earlier who called me out of the blue in the office one day. Because of work he only comes back to Canada twice a year to see his family for a couple of weeks. The fact that he made it a point to set aside time to meet me speaks volumes on how much he valued our friendship.
Anyways, we went over to have dinner with his family and over a few (too many) glasses of fantastic wine, he shared with me his own life struggles over the last 10 years and encouraged me to keep looking ahead and moving forward. A few nights later, we went out again, this time only the two of us. Over a few (too many) beers, we talked again, for 3 hours. Before hand, he said to me, "After dinner the other night, I realized that I did most of the talking and didn't spend enough time listening to you, so I want to spend another night to just listen." I found out later that prior to coming back to Canada, he spent a month trying to figure out what to say and how to encourage me!
As we parted ways outside the pub, we knew we wouldn't see each other again for a while, as he was flying out the next day. He put his hands on my shoulders like an older brother and said, "Listen. Whatever happens. Whatever you need. Call me." Over the years, I have heard words like that many times. I have said the same to countless others. But coming from my friend, it felt/sounded different...because I knew he really meant it.
One of the most important lessons I have learned over this past year is what real friendship looks like. I learned the difference between being "friendly" and being a "friend". I realize that I don't have many friends. But the ones I do have, they have demonstrated and proven their friendship to me by steadfastly standing by and walking beside me through this most difficult time of my life. To all of them, thank you! I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you.
So, as we embark on another year, of all the things I can wish for you, I wish that 2009 may be a year where you experience much friendship. Have a wonderful new year, everyone!
One of the highlights of my holiday was getting the opportunity to spend time with my old friend from HK. We have been friends for 28 years now, although we haven't seen each other in more than 5 years. He was the one that I blogged about earlier who called me out of the blue in the office one day. Because of work he only comes back to Canada twice a year to see his family for a couple of weeks. The fact that he made it a point to set aside time to meet me speaks volumes on how much he valued our friendship.
Anyways, we went over to have dinner with his family and over a few (too many) glasses of fantastic wine, he shared with me his own life struggles over the last 10 years and encouraged me to keep looking ahead and moving forward. A few nights later, we went out again, this time only the two of us. Over a few (too many) beers, we talked again, for 3 hours. Before hand, he said to me, "After dinner the other night, I realized that I did most of the talking and didn't spend enough time listening to you, so I want to spend another night to just listen." I found out later that prior to coming back to Canada, he spent a month trying to figure out what to say and how to encourage me!
As we parted ways outside the pub, we knew we wouldn't see each other again for a while, as he was flying out the next day. He put his hands on my shoulders like an older brother and said, "Listen. Whatever happens. Whatever you need. Call me." Over the years, I have heard words like that many times. I have said the same to countless others. But coming from my friend, it felt/sounded different...because I knew he really meant it.
One of the most important lessons I have learned over this past year is what real friendship looks like. I learned the difference between being "friendly" and being a "friend". I realize that I don't have many friends. But the ones I do have, they have demonstrated and proven their friendship to me by steadfastly standing by and walking beside me through this most difficult time of my life. To all of them, thank you! I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you.
So, as we embark on another year, of all the things I can wish for you, I wish that 2009 may be a year where you experience much friendship. Have a wonderful new year, everyone!
Friday, December 19, 2008
Staff Christmas Lunch
A couple of days ago our agency celebrated Christmas by having lunch together at the local Mandarin restaurant (Yeah, I know. I am not crazy about Mandarin either, but that's another story for another time :) I had to oversee the phone installation at our new office (translation: someone had to be there to open the door for the phone guy) so I was a little late getting there. When I walked in, I saw our staff, both paid and volunteer gathered around 2 tables and having a great time. For some reason, I wanted to stand there for just a bit longer, looking at them.
There couldn't be a more diverse group. There were a few retirees who still actively volunteer their time with us. There was a lady who came to the country as a refugee with nothing but the clothes on her back whom we have recently hired to serve the needs of new immigrants. There were a couple of university students who worked with us during the Summer months. There was our staff manager who overcame incredible personal and physical hardships in her life. Every person around those 2 tables had an interest and distinct story. Yet there they were, all drawn together in one place.
They came to our agency, not with grand and lofty visions to end poverty or hunger, or anything like that. They came, because they simply want to help people. At the end of each phone call we receive, whether it is a desperate person contemplating suicide, or a new immigrant parent looking for a doctor for his son, or simply a high school student looking for a place to volunteer, the hope is that when we put down the phone to end the call, we have managed to make someone's life just a little easier.
At the lunch I made it a point to go around to thank each person for the work that they have done. They in turn gave me a Christmas card that says, "To our wonderful Boss...Merry Christmas!" When I read the card, I felt so proud to be called their "boss"...for some reason I felt a strange sense of "affection" when they called me that :)
As lunch wound down and everyone were enjoying their desserts, I silently offered up a little Christmas wish: I hope in the new year, I can work twice as hard for these wonderful folks, and that I can manage to find enough funding to keep our agency going.
There couldn't be a more diverse group. There were a few retirees who still actively volunteer their time with us. There was a lady who came to the country as a refugee with nothing but the clothes on her back whom we have recently hired to serve the needs of new immigrants. There were a couple of university students who worked with us during the Summer months. There was our staff manager who overcame incredible personal and physical hardships in her life. Every person around those 2 tables had an interest and distinct story. Yet there they were, all drawn together in one place.
They came to our agency, not with grand and lofty visions to end poverty or hunger, or anything like that. They came, because they simply want to help people. At the end of each phone call we receive, whether it is a desperate person contemplating suicide, or a new immigrant parent looking for a doctor for his son, or simply a high school student looking for a place to volunteer, the hope is that when we put down the phone to end the call, we have managed to make someone's life just a little easier.
At the lunch I made it a point to go around to thank each person for the work that they have done. They in turn gave me a Christmas card that says, "To our wonderful Boss...Merry Christmas!" When I read the card, I felt so proud to be called their "boss"...for some reason I felt a strange sense of "affection" when they called me that :)
As lunch wound down and everyone were enjoying their desserts, I silently offered up a little Christmas wish: I hope in the new year, I can work twice as hard for these wonderful folks, and that I can manage to find enough funding to keep our agency going.
Monday, December 15, 2008
First time "back"...
Last Saturday I went to a Christian organization to speak. It was the first time in more than a year that I have spoken in a "Christian" context. I really didn't give it much thought when I accepted the invitation. A friend of mine works for the organization and they needed a speaker, so I just said yes, mostly thinking of helping out a friend.
It wasn't till I was driving to the engagement that it hit me. I was surprised how "nervous" I felt on the way. It wasn't the speaking that made me nervous. It was more a sense of uncertainty of whether I still "belong" in that "world". Even as I pulled into the parking lot, in the back of my mind I was still looking for excuses to back out of the engagement ("hm...is that a headache that I feel coming on? May be I should cancel and not spread it to others...")
The workshop itself was okay. The staff went out of their way to make me feel welcomed and at home. When I asked the audience a question and there was silence, the staff took it upon themselves to respond to help me not feel awkward. A year ago I wouldn't have thought about any of this. But today, I have learned to recognize and appreciate acts of kindness, no matter how small.
3 hours later, the workshop was finished. I was exhausted; more emotionally than physically. As I made a quick exit and drove away, I learned a couple of things: First, I realized that my wounds from the betrayal and trampling I received from those whom I thought were my Christian community are still very open and fresh, and I still need to deal with it and seek healing. Second, I learned how every act of kindness makes a difference, and I need to be thankful for them. I am thankful for the staff of the organization. For every smile, every handshake, every pat on the shoulder. I am thankful for the people who left messages on my facebook to encourage me. The fact that they realized this is a 'big deal' for me and took time to leave me notes tells me that they are thinking of me. I am thankful to Anna who looked after Taylor in a mall for 3 hours while I spoke. As I said, a year ago, I would have taken everything for granted. Now, I have learned to treasure kindness.
When I got home I opened the thank you card they gave me. The old me wouldn't even bother reading them after speaking engagements. But this time it was different. I looked at the card, read every word, and instead of it going into my recycle bin, it now stands on my desk at home.
Call it a "milestone" on a long journey.
Tim, Joseph, Alex, Teresa, Nicole, Addie, Ceci, Harry, Anna...Thank you :-)
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Lessons Learned at the kettle
"...But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a fraction of a penny" --Mark 12:42
A couple of days ago I volunteered at a Salvation Army Kettle - the kind you see at shopping malls and other public places at this time of year. Basically the Salvation Army puts out these kettles for people to put in donations to support their work. Because our agency agreed to help out, I was glad to sign up for a shift.
The work was simply enough. I simply had to go to the mall, stand beside the kettle for 90 minutes, and thank people for their donations. While a few people actually stopped by, for the most part I was simply standing there.
As I stood there watching the people walking right by me, busy with their Christmas shopping, a mild feeling of loneliness came over me. It was not so much me feeling lonely for myself, but I was getting a taste of how the busy, "happy" holiday seasons can be a lonely experience for many people. Christmas is billed as a season of peace, of joy, of family and friends. There are many who don't have a whole lot of any of those things in their lives. As I stood there in the mall, I quietly wondered whether Christmas feels like this for them: being alone while surrounded by people busy celebrating.
I was watching this one family carrying...no, hauling a huge load of Christmas gifts when I was startled by a voice behind me.
"Hi!"
"Hello!"
I turned around to see an elderly gentleman. We chatted for a bit. From our conversation, it was apparent that he struggles with some mental disability, and from the way he dressed, I guessed that financially he wasn't exactly well off. He told me that every year he makes it a point to look for the Salvation Army kettle to make a donation, because in the past he had benefited from Salvation army's services to the needy.
Then he pulled out a handful of loose change from his pocket and dropped them into the kettle. He did so slowly, one coin at a time, like it was the most important thing he had to do that day. After he was done, I thanked him, he said good-bye and started to walk away. After taking a few steps, he stopped, turned and said to me, "You take care of yourself."
I didn't get a chance to tell him, but in many ways, he gave more that day than he could ever know.
A couple of days ago I volunteered at a Salvation Army Kettle - the kind you see at shopping malls and other public places at this time of year. Basically the Salvation Army puts out these kettles for people to put in donations to support their work. Because our agency agreed to help out, I was glad to sign up for a shift.
The work was simply enough. I simply had to go to the mall, stand beside the kettle for 90 minutes, and thank people for their donations. While a few people actually stopped by, for the most part I was simply standing there.
As I stood there watching the people walking right by me, busy with their Christmas shopping, a mild feeling of loneliness came over me. It was not so much me feeling lonely for myself, but I was getting a taste of how the busy, "happy" holiday seasons can be a lonely experience for many people. Christmas is billed as a season of peace, of joy, of family and friends. There are many who don't have a whole lot of any of those things in their lives. As I stood there in the mall, I quietly wondered whether Christmas feels like this for them: being alone while surrounded by people busy celebrating.
I was watching this one family carrying...no, hauling a huge load of Christmas gifts when I was startled by a voice behind me.
"Hi!"
"Hello!"
I turned around to see an elderly gentleman. We chatted for a bit. From our conversation, it was apparent that he struggles with some mental disability, and from the way he dressed, I guessed that financially he wasn't exactly well off. He told me that every year he makes it a point to look for the Salvation Army kettle to make a donation, because in the past he had benefited from Salvation army's services to the needy.
Then he pulled out a handful of loose change from his pocket and dropped them into the kettle. He did so slowly, one coin at a time, like it was the most important thing he had to do that day. After he was done, I thanked him, he said good-bye and started to walk away. After taking a few steps, he stopped, turned and said to me, "You take care of yourself."
I didn't get a chance to tell him, but in many ways, he gave more that day than he could ever know.
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