puppet strings

how much of my life was spent pursuing perfection? these fingers, cold and weary, are dropping one by one the puppet strings of life.

Your pain

is the breaking of the shell

that encloses your understanding.

K. Gibran

I used to take long walks and talk to God. I'd say the most memorable times with God were when I was angry. Curses came flying out and I didn't give a crap about what was coming out of my mouth. My fingers were pointed at God for the insanity and darkness I was feeling. I wanted to know WHY and brought my ears closer to the Almighty so I could get an answer.

Growing up, I was surrounded by bickering, anger and violent conversations. Intriguingly, those things brought everyone close. I suppose that became my love language towards God in a strange way.

These days, I wonder what happened to our conversations. My love has grown cold. The anger has become nonchalance.

I brought one of my students to the Friday large group meeting at Times Square Church last week. I saw him receive blessings. He got prayed for by the intercessory team there because he held up his hand for prayer. He wanted to go back on Sunday. He said thank you for bringing me to the church. I said, no problem. But there was a strange coldness in my heart. I was unmoved. I lifted up a short prayer for him and trusted God would do his thing. Oh and did I say "I brought him"? No - I went to the church because I wanted to check it out for myself. He just happened to come along.

Friendship

Thankful for friends that God has placed in my life.

Underneath it all

One of my coworkers sneaked in a soda bottle (filled w/ coke & rum) into Citifield. "It's way too expensive to buy a drink at Citifield...", he explained. He described how he hid the bottle in his gym bag underneath a lot of crap. But even w/ his clever strategy, he got caught and couldn't enter the field.

After getting caught, he went straight to the parking lot, rearranged his bag and tucked the bottle in a bottom compartment of his gym bag. The guards were fooled and allowed him in.

How'd he do it? He showed me his bag. There was a lot of crap in there, but he pushed it to the sides to show me where he hid the bottle. He reached deeper into his bag and lifted up what turned out to be a secret cover to another bottom layer. There was a secret compartment at the very very bottom of his bag. It was the perfect spot to hide his bottle of coke and rum. He covered it with a layer of stuff and sealed it w/ the secret cover. You'd never guess there was anything beyond the "bottom" of the bag. It was so deceiving! He got into Citifield without any problems and was happily drinking his bottom of coke and rum.

The next day, the cover-up made me think about how I do the same thing, but with my life. I deliberately veil parts of my heart/life for varying reasons and most of the time, get away with it.

Instead of getting caught one day, I need to come naked before God, surrender my heart and ask him to do a thorough search. Underneath it all are issues that go beyond the issues I seek to hide. The scary thing is, the older I get and as memories fade, the bottom layers begin to run deeper and beyond my reach; I no longer have the ability to retrieve or rearrange certain things. Only God knows every inch and corner of my heart - even places that are unknown and forgotten to me. (psalm 139)

Maybe, that's why, when you get older, there are certain things you can no longer hide -- things begin to show up in your wrinkled countenance and seep out in ways you'd never imagine, your true colors come out and it gets harder to fool the people around you.

I try reminding myself to deal with the issues now. resolve them before your heart hardens. don't let the sun go down on certain things. knead the word of God into your heart through and through, over and over again. stop running and allow God to bury His hands into the bottom layers of your heart.

Lord, do the heart surgery!!!

Perfectionist

Just read this on Rick Warren's twitter:

Perfectionism paraylzes potential & promotes procrastination.Eccl. 11:4 "If u wait for perfect conditions,u'll never get anything done."

It's so true! I can relate to this because I am a perfectionist. What Rick said is the story of my life. Sigh. How can I change? Lord help me.

- An ailing perfectionist

Spring

This past year, I found myself in a dark cave without an entrance or exit. I didn't know how I wound up there and couldn't find a way out. In that place, every strand of faith and belief I had in Christ was thoroughly challenged and tested. Past experiences, past victories became quick-sand in which I could not stand. Areas in which I never thought I'd compromise, I did. Thoughts I never knew would pass through my mind came and multiplied.

Light is beginning to shine. Small rays of hope are dawning on me. The dead of winter is slowly passing and Spring is making its transition into my heart.

Something happenned to me this year. I went through a major crisis in almost every part of my life. My family life was the only steady part. Every other area was shaken up and brought me to a place of confusion.

Two different worlds

May 21st, 7PM

Me: "Sighhh.. what a long day"
Student: "Psshhh... whatever miss. You get in at 12PM"

Me: "No, not today. I came in earlier this morning!! I was here since 9:30AM"
Student: "Well, I woke up at 5:30AM. Been at work since 7 in the morning. You've been sitting at a computer all day!"

Me: "Okay, well I had to do a lot of thinkin' and brainwork today"
Student: "Well, I had to carry lots of heavy boxes and heavy liftin'. I'm tired as heck man."

Me: ....
Student: Looks at me like I didn't understand what he went through.

Two different worlds. Two different types of difficulty and work. I feel ya kid.

Mother's Day

Mother's Day began with mom and dad quarreling. I was lying in bed when I heard them arguing. Although I couldn't hear their exact words, I felt the influxes of anger and heat in the intonation of their voices. It ended with a slamming of the door as my dad left the house and walked to his car. The engine started and soon after, he drove away. They were supposed to go to church together, but mom decided not to go. Grandma remained in her usual spot on the couch, eyes glazed in silence. My brother's bedroom door was shut, almost acting as a shield for him. I did what I always do: begin praying, ask my grandmother what had transpired, try to make sense of what's happening and plan for the worst.

Yesterday, mom requested that I buy her a plant instead of the usual bouquet of flowers my bro and I give her. I picked out a plant that had flower buds, but no flowers.

Mom and Dad are just like flower buds that are waiting to bloom. They need love. There are not many flowers on display right now.

I know that with God's love and His timing, they will bloom and put the unbelievers to shame.

untitled

Discovered an ipod car connector in my car (formerly my aunts car) the other day. I can now listen to my own music! It's a pretty solid one too; there are barely any poor reception static noises.

Took a day off to do some reflecting and seeking. I found myself driving up the block I grew up on. It took me through memory lane; it also reminded me of how much time has passed. Heavy thoughts, mixed emotions, ancient memories came seeping out. I thought I'd experience a rush of nostalgia, but it was a mere tap on the heart.

Visited the lake by my old house.Witnessed: shining sun, family of geese swimming in the lake, children laughing and tossing bread crumbs to them, father and daughter on the bench gazing at the lake, mother and son walking along, and myself sitting on a rock reading from Psalms.

Went to Starbucks afterwards. Read through Blackaby's Spiritual Leadership. First thing I read was about leaders having experienced dysfunctional family histories. It was ironic bc I had just come from my old home and was reminded of a lot of issues I still need to deal with. Time and time again, I'm always led back to the cross and my own relationship with the Lord.

I feel the Lord walking me through a season of growth. Help me to learn my lessons well, Lord!

twenty-four going on twenty-five

I was looking at my old xanga entries and came across this entry I wrote when I was 25. This is a little bit of what being 25 looked like for me.

being 25
t - treasuring each passing moment (with students, rwc, family, etc)
w - weighing out different options (future, career, husband, etc)
e - entreating God's heart
n - needing to make baby-step decisions
t - testing of character and faith
y - yielding to God's timetable

f - fighting passivity
i - indecisions about everything (future, career, husband, etc)
v - vying for His glory as much as I can
e - ending "me" so there can be more Him (i'm trying)


I backtracked my entries and found this entry I wrote when I was 24. I think this is when I was fresh out of Ann Arbor. You can tell I was pretty bright-eyed at the time.

being 24
t - teetering, tottering
w - waiting, wondering
e - expectations growing (at times diminishing)
n - new beginnings unfolding
t - trusting in God's timing
y - yearning for clarity

f - feet getting wet
o - opening new doors
u - unfamiliar paths, unexplored grounds
r - remembering that God knows the way.

Somewhere in my transition to young adulthood in NYC, things changed.

The simple-minded heart I once had as a 24 year old transformed into a calculating heart. Uncertainties have become questions that incite anxiety and bring about an increasing need to control my own future.

Being a young adult in the city is hard, but I feel God calling me to remember the safety and simplicity of dwelling in His presence. I feel a rebuke coming on. Since when did I have bear a right to my life? What and by whom is my life dictated by?

Lord, teach me to live for you alone.

"...He said to them, “Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.” They immediately left their nets and followed Him."

Documentary

I ask myself from time to time, why I don't document my own life. Will I regret it one day? Reminds me of my mother.. she once owned a party shop filled with party paraphernalia, but never threw me a party. I look at my parents and my grandmother. They are getting older each day. Will I remember the fine details of their laughter, their hands, their voice years from now?

Great customer service

I was at Macy's today looking for watches. The lady assisting me did not ask a whole bunch of questions to figure out my taste or style. Rather, she gave me simple feedback, asked other customers to wait and gave me ample time to decide. I appreciated her attention towards me. I spent a good amount of time looking at two different watches. She could tell I wasn't completely comfortable with either one. "If you're gonna be spending 100 dollars, you should really like it," she said. "I'm like that too - I don't purchase an item that I'm not fully comfortable with. If I'm gonna invest a lot of money, I need to really enjoy it - especially if I'm gonna be wearing it everyday...you should wait until other watches come out. Valentine's Day is coming up you know, so a lot of watches will be coming out".

Her customer service was solid. She guided me in a way that made me pause and think before I made a 100 dollar investment. She wasn't there to sell me the product - she was there to make sure I was sold out for it. There was a personal touch and a genuine desire to see that I was a customer that was happy with my decision.

I'm a firm believer in good customer service. No one knows this about me, but I'm always making mental notes of employee behavior and customer service delivery at malls and at stores. Should you believe in the product more than you believe in the customer? I think quality customer service is exactly the words that make it up - serving the customer. It comes down to true service. It's a holy principle that has power to transform in businesses, malls and stores.

UMich video.

UMich made a video that has a brief clip of me from freshman year. I can't believe that was 10 years ago. First thought: I was so skinny back then. Second thought: They used me as an asian person. Anyhow, it's weird seeing myself in a video. Check it out here:

http://ummedia10.rs.itd.umich.edu/flash/mmd/mmd.html?dep=mmd&file=MSC_winter09.flv


I can't believe Prof. Williams is leaving! He was an awesome teacher.

It's 3:03AM

Lord, teach me to rest.

crippled creativity

Reader: you have no idea, but it took me ten minutes to write this first sentence. Type one word, delete... type a whole sentence, delete... repeat. What is this anxiety that builds up when I'm about to create something? The verbalization of a thought, the creation of something frightens me for some odd reason. Perhaps it's the fear of creating something less than perfect. A fear that my creation might be a quiet reflection of my own imperfections. Fear of failure. I've spent many nights spent revising,fine tuning video projects. But rarely satisfied.

In my professional life, I face another blank slate. As director, I have freedom to put policies into place and design a program. You are the director, says my boss. Fear of failure. I have so many ideas, so many thoughts, so many dreams... but my insecurites are squelching my passion. This gnawing fear kept me staring into blank pages, blank video project timelines.

Once I created, I'd start hacking away at my creation with revisions after revisions after revisions. Never satisfied. Fear of failure. Insecure.