Things always sound more profound when a kid in a suit is saying them while dancing.

"Two roads diverged in the woods...and I took the road less traveled...AND IT HURT, MAN!...but I want to be on the [road] that leads to awesome."

My thoughts exactly.

A Cup of Tea

I should not be writing a blog post right now. I am leaving in a day and a half and as usual I have a To-Do list as long as the Silk Road. I need to pack, clean, book hotels, confirm bookings, reply to a gugillion emails, work on college applications, do homework, tie up things at work, write application essays, re-write application essays, remember to breathe, do laundry, wait for the laundry to dry, pay bills, go to the bank, and remember all the other things I need to do that I am always forgetting about. The stress of it all is literally making my head spin.

But I'm taking a moment. Taking a moment to enjoy my cup of tea. Taking a moment to remember there's a world outside of mine. Taking a moment to remember that stress never helped anyone - never added a minute to the hour or crossed a thing off the list. I'm taking a moment to be excited about my up coming trip, to pause and remember how much I really do love my work, and to breathe - because even though the air is black and diluted from the pollution and even hurts my lungs, He is still giving me breath, still giving me Life, and still being good.

It's amazing what a cup of tea can do. Remember to have yours today.

Sometimes...

...I write these combinations of words that sort of resemble poem like compositions. Mostly I don't. But sometimes I do. You can read these sometimes somethings here (<--- click that word) on my first yet secondary blog. I don't claim to be a poet. I don't even claim to write poetry. I just like to talk, really. And I like to write too.

And you know what's interesting? I seem to always be torn between really wanting to share my thoughts and have people listen to what I have to say and being utterly terrified of sharing my writings and feeling completely vulnerable and naked by posting my thoughts on this blog where Who Even Knows is reading it.

There is something safe but cop-out-ish about the internet. You can say whatever you'd like without having to look people in the eye. I can post my poems and probably no one even reads them, but at least I've felt like I've shared. But don't you dare ask me to read them aloud to someone. You see, I want to speak - but I'm afraid of people actually listening.

I think we as people long for authenticity but at the same time are much too afraid of ourselves - afraid of who we are, afraid to share it, and afraid of how we will be received. I don't like to let people in. I don't like being vulnerable and open. Yet is the very thing I yearn for: To know and be known.

But before I can be authentic with anyone else, I have to first be authentic with myself. I have to be willing to process, reflect, and claim the truth.

See, this is why I shouldn't have a blog! I just ramble and ramble saying too much and saying nothing at all!

Xiao Zhang

I remember Xiao Zhang’s* first day at the Project.

We had been visiting the women in the shop she worked at for years. Finally one day, we got news that the shop was closing and that Xiao Zhang and another woman wanted to join the Project. We were so excited to welcome them to join us.

On her first day, Xiao Zhang sat closely to her friend. She kept her head down glancing around at us cautiously and avoiding eye contact. She hardly said a word for weeks. Her eyes looked tired and dark. Her smile, when she smiled, was ever so slight and a bit nervous. She was shy and timid.

Who knows what this woman has been through in her 31 years of life that has forced her to keep her head down and made her eyes grow dark?

Xiao Zhang has been with us for several months now. It has taken time for her to feel at home. But today I hardly recognize her.

This past autumn, I returned to Asia after a month long visit to the US. I had only been back in Asia a few days and had not yet returned to work at the SF office. I was in a grocery store near our women’s shelter restocking my kitchen when I spotted a woman across the store. The woman caught my eye and a giant smile burst out across her face and she waved excitedly at me. At first I did not recognize who it was. I was so surprised when I realized who she was. It was Xiao Zhang. She hurried over to me to give me hug and welcome me back. We chatted a bit with the minimal vocabulary we each had of the other’s language. Gone was the timid, cautious woman who had first come to SF. The woman who stood before me was so much more confident and so full of life.

A few weeks ago during team building, a time we spend together sharing and building relationships in the office before the work day starts, I looked up at her from across the table. I thought, “Who is this woman? Can this really be the same Xiao Zhang who came to us hardly ever speaking or smiling?” The woman I see now wears a beaming and breathtaking smile on her face. A light shines in her eyes. She laughs. She jokes around. She sings. She shares her thoughts and feelings. She holds her head up high.

Xiao Zhang’s life has been transformed. No longer is she trapped in a life of exploitation. She now has a chance to realize her potential and be valued for who she is. She is a hard and happy worker. Xiao Zhang was recently promoted to position of Inventory Manager. She is thriving in her new role of responsibility.

Whenever I get tired or discouraged at all there is to do or at size of the problem of exploitation, I think of Xiao Zhang. I think of the smile that now shines from her soul. And I remember why we do what we do. I remember that it is all worth it. I remember there is hope for each and every one.


This was a blog I wrote for SF's blog a few weeks ago but I thought I'd share it on here too.
*Real name not used to protect my friend

My 5 Highlights of 2012

I should post a deep, contemplative, really moving reflection on my experiences of 2012 of all the lessons I've learned, ways I've grown, and amazing things I've seen and experienced. But instead I'm going to cheat and write a short reflection in the form of number points of my top 5 highlights of 2012 listed in no particular order. Ready, set, go!

1. Going to Thailand! 
I have wanted to go to Thailand for literally as long as I can remember. I have no idea why. I just always have. When the plane broke through the clouds and I saw Thailand for the first time, I burst out in tears. The food was amazing, the people are beautiful, the weather is warm, and massages are cheap - but, the thing that made me the happiest to be there was that the little kid who used to look at atlases for hours, who would always try to find Thailand as fast as she could whenever a globe was within reach,  and who would beg her parents to let her stay up late so she could watch Globe Trekker on PBS - that little kid learned that it's OK to hope and dream for things and that that little kid really can go places in life.

2. Surviving/Not dying/Not being run over by a car, bus, or stampede of people rushing toward the bus
There are a lot of people in the city I live in. Like a lot. Like a lot, a lot. Like 23 million. And I feel like they ALL take the bus or subway - especially the bus or subway line that I need to take. So, in addition to not being smothered to death (see blog entitle "THE bus") by the crowds of people that I seem to constantly be engulfed in when trying to get anywhere in this city, I am really glad I have yet to be run over/hit by a car because a lot of the time it is safer to cross the road when the crosswalk sign actually says do not cross. I learned to adapt, cope, and survive in an environment and lifestyle that mostly just makes me go "Whaaa?".  You may think I'm being over-dramatic or sarcastic but the funny thing is, I'm not.

3. Making Great Friends & Meeting Great People
I met a lot of interesting people this past year. I learned a lot from them. I was blessed by them. I was inspired and challenged by them. Many of them I probably will never see again. Some of them will be a major part of my life from here on out. The relationships that were forged, formed, and deepened and the ones that just sorta happened are perhaps the greatest highlight of my year. Without the people I came across or who came across me during my travels, stays, and visits my year would have been filled with a lot less smiles, laughs, tears, lessons learned, accidental adventures, challenges, growing curves, inspirations, and hugs. Whether you are my life-long mentor now, the taxi driver who proposed to me on behalf of his son, my boss, my housemate, the Mongolian woman who let me take shelter in her family's yurt during a downpour,  my counselor, or the lady who sold me my veggies, you made my year.

4. Going to Oxford
I can't express to you the joy that overwhelmed my little homeschooled nerd heart to walk the streets of Oxford and grab lunch at the Bird and the Baby. Yes, I ate lunch in the same pub where the souls who gave us Narnia and Middle Earth ate lunch. I was beside myself to say the least. Aside from that, the general history and beauty of the town brought tears to me eyes (1,3, and 4 all mention tears - apparently I cried a lot in 2012!). I didn't plan on going to Oxford. It was a last minute, unexpected, tremendous surprise.
It was like realizing that just when you thought all of the Christmas presents have been opened and the excitement is all over that there is still one more left hiding under the tree - and it has your name on it.

5. Proving Myself Wrong
I used to think it was unrealistic to think that I was ever going to get to travel. Ha.
I used to think it was naive to want my life to be meaningful AND fun. Ha.
I used to think it was impossible for me to ever amount to anything. Ha.


I want to keep going! 5 just isn't enough! There are so many highlights that are now coming to mind. A whole year's worth, in fact! 2012 wasn't all fun and happy memories. No way! It was the hardest, most painful year of my life. But even the low points are highlights in a way because of the lessons and tools I gained from them. I just think of all the places I went to, the adventures I had, the jobs I did, the people I met, the experiences I had, and I am completely and utterly overwhelmed with gratitude. I am grateful, so grateful for 2012.

Distrac...hey, what's that over there?

I have a problem.

If you are reading this, than you might be aware of what I'm talking about. The design of my blog is a big glaring testament of my problem.

I get distracted.

Actually, I let myself get distracted. And in a way, I even want to get distracted.

For example, I log on to write or post a blog. But instead of clicking "New Post", I inevitably and consistently click "Template" instead. Once this first act of defiant distractableness is accomplished I proceed to spend ridiculous amounts of time trying to get my blog to look "just right".  This "just right", of course, is merely a white rabbit I chase after by trying out new colors, fonts, and backgrounds. But I'm never satisfied, never pleased, because I don't really need to change the look of the page anyway. That's not why I logged on to my blog. But for some reason I let myself become distracted from my original intention. It's easier to put together colors and fonts than words and ideas. I let myself become distracted because a part of me doesn't want to write, doesn't want to process, and most certainly doesn't want to post a blog less than brilliant (being a perfectionist with self-esteem issues is exhausting!). I know I need to write, to think things out, and sometimes to even let myself ramble. But I'm too lazy to think sometimes. I'm too tired to think sometimes. And sometimes I'm too afraid to think. So, I let myself get distracted. I let myself forget what I set out to process in the first place. I settle for Hershey's while I could have Cailler if I was only willing to make a bigger investment. Why is it that I am so willing to let myself become distracted? Why am I so conditioned to opt for the easier, faster, brighter option so much of the time in so many areas of my life? Whether it is relaxing, working, socializing, or learning, I am beginning to lose my patience.

I'm beginning to sell my attention to the fastest - not the highest - bidder.

And today I've decided that I'm not OK that. Because the less willing I become to sit down and process, the less capable I will become to engage with life. And I'm here to live life not to watch it.

Sometimes I'm tired of crying, so I laugh instead.

I laugh.

When I think about where I am, who I am – I laugh.

I laugh that kind of laugh that comes out like a bubbling brook from a deep, deep spring
 It starts out like a little trickle then bubbles up and out
That kind of laugh that is heavy, that kind that carries the memory of pain with it
The kind that tastes bittersweet in your heart but taste all the better for it
The kind of laughter that says, “I can’t believe I’m laughing right now but I just can’t help it.”
The type of laughter that comes out gently but strong, oh, so strong
The kind of laughing you do with your heart not your lungs
It rises and falls and leaves you with a knowing smile
A laughter that says, “Oh dear, how on earth did I get here?”
A laughter that whispers, “I remember the hurt.”
A laughter that whispers still, “Somehow it’s okay. I’m okay.”
A laughter that is more like a sigh than a laugh, really
It tells of a colored past – one that was both inside and outside the lines
It speaks of a muffled present
And hints at carefully, hopeful future
The kind of laughter that says, “I’m still alive. My momma was right: I won’t die from hard things.”
A laugh that breathes deeply
A laugh that comes with a few tears too

The kind of laugh that makes me shake my head in disbelief
A laugh that is the beginning of belief
It sets me free a little

The kind of laugh that makes me know that I am alive.

THE bus.

I feel like I can't live in this country without mentioning in my blog at least once the ever baffling, ever frustrating, ever overwhelmed and overwhelming experience of taking THE BUS . And when you are waiting for your bus, it really does feel like you are waiting for THE bus - the one and only bus of your kind because it takes an eternity to appear.
I should have gotten a clue about what my life would look like from here on out from the first time I took the bus home from the office. We had been standing in the cold at the bus stop for some time, when at last the 988 bus came into sight. It arrived and much to my despair even though the windows were foggy on the inside from body heat I could still make out the image of countless bodies and faces pressed up against the glass. The bus was full. And by full I mean jam packed, almost overflowing, mind boggling full. I sighed and said "Well, I guess we'll have to wait for the next one." My local co-worker looked at me confused, "Oh no! We can make it on this one! There is room!" She took a stance that looked like she was going to make a running start for the open bus door that was just a wall of packed to the brim bodies. But then she did that single selfless bus act: she put me in front of her and then made a running start for the bus door. There I found myself being carried toward the bus by a surge of travelers trying to deny the laws of physics and squeeze their way onto the already packed bus. I was caught between the determination of my friend and the wall of bodies that filled the open bus door. It was no use. I was still outside the bus though firmly secured by other people's various extremities to the side of the bus. The bus doors wouldn't close and my friend had not made it on. Then she took a step back and charged forward once more. I leaned with all my body weight in as did she. Some kind soul from within the bus reached out and helped pull us aboard. In a last attempt we squeeze in as a hard as we could into the small open pockets of space under people's arms and in between their legs as the bus doors struggled with all their might to close around the mass of people held within the walls of the green 988 BJ bus. We all held our breath as the doors finally met and the bus drove on. "See," said my friend, "I told you we could fit." Indeed, we did. I couldn't even move my head to look at her to smile back.

And this, this was only the beginning. Little did I know that bus riding in this city would prove to be this much exercise more times than I ever could have hoped. As someone who intensely loves my personal space and often times tenses up when someone sits so close on the couch next to me that their leg brushes mine, riding the bus every day has proved a wild and stretching experience. I am proud to say I have gotten fairly good at turning off my nervous system below my neck - at least I turn it off mentally and ignore the fact that my every body part is being squashed, hugged, and straddled by millions of strangers.

Needless to say, you can imagine my intense delight at fact that my new apartment is walking distance from the office.

And this is just the daily bus. I won't get into traveling via the subway at rush hour or a 12 hour train ride the week before Chinese New Year. Let's not go there. No really, please, don't make me go there.

Since I'm not much of a blogger....

...or a photographer for that matter, here are a few photos (that I mostly stole from other people) of a few recent happenings in my life. Mostly of things that keep me busy in between what mostly keeps me busy.


A 3 hour drive which turned into a 6 hour drive excursion out to the Dragon Gorge during Fall Holiday with my fabulous roommate...

 Just a random sight walking to the bus stop...                         

My 20th birthday! Celebrating adulthood by eating one of my favorite childhood desserts :-)

Accidental Chinese Hipster Party. Yeah.

Surrender's Ed

When I made the decision to return to Asia for another year, my mind was racing trying to envision solutions to all the logistical problems. Naturally, the usual suspect was stressing me out the most: money. Obedience to Him pays off, but it certainly does not pay – at least not in green paper. How was I going to fund my obedience? I wondered. How was I going to get enough financial support to be able to stay in Asia for another year? My mind could think of no solution.

Then an image came to mind. The image of my little light blue `99 Toyota Corolla parked on the side of my parents’ house.

I could sell it.

No, I couldn’t.

The thought of letting go of my car was for some reason ridiculously painful. I instantly thought of a million legitimate reasons why I should not sell my car…I’d need a car when I moved back to the States, I’m American which means we love our cars, it was a part of my identity, my car is great, my car is mine, I don’t want to sell it, why should I sell it if I’m only going to be in Asia for a year, and the list went on and on mainly with the motivation: I don’t want to sell it, it is mine and I like it. My car was a source of freedom, an element of my identity, an object of control. I could get in my car and go wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted. When I was in my car I was in charge. My Corolla was a little kingdom of my realm of power and control. I felt free when I had the opportunity to hop in that thing and just drive away. And the thought of not having that, even though it would be parked on the curb at my parents’ house half way around the world, still unnerved me. It made me freak out. I must have a car! I thought.
But the stronger “must”, was that I must follow Him. I must obey. If that meant I had to sell my car in order have enough money to buy a plane ticket, then I would sell my car. I wrestled with Him and tried to make Him understand how hard it would be for me to sell my car. But He just kept saying “I’m worth it. I am worth selling your car for.” And then the truth of that soaked in. He was. He was worth so much more than my silly little hunk of metal. If the choice was keeping my car or following the King of the Universe who loves me, there was no choice. The latter was the only thing that made any sense. I finally got to the point where I was able to put my car up for sale without any reservations in my heart. I was sad at first and as silly as it seems, I had to mourn the loss of my freedom. But once I got to the point where I could say “I will and do give up everything in order to follow you”, I became truly free. I realized that my car, which I viewed as an object of freedom and control, was actually enslaving me. It was controlling me. My attachment to it was determining what I thought and how I felt. When I was able to give it up to Him, I became so free, so released into His goodness, into pursuing Him with nothing tying me down. When I stepped out and experienced what it was like to be found solely in Him, I found surrender to be the most freeing place to be.

I gave up my freedom in order to be free.

So, my car was up for sale. I was headed back to Asia in a matter of days, and I still had no one to buy it. I guess I should have been stressed out because I still needed the money. But I wasn’t. Because He showed me that it wasn’t about a logistical problem of funding, it was about a logistical problem of trust. It wasn’t about my car. It was about my heart. And once I was able to enter into what He wanted to teach me about trusting that He is good and learning to let Him be my everything, selling or keeping the car didn’t even matter anymore.
And as it turns out in the end, He didn’t lead me to sell my car. A few weeks ago He provided the opportunity for someone to rent my car while I am here in Asia for a year. Not only did He provide a car for my friend, He let me not have to sell it and still receive income from it. But He also left room for more trusting on my part. He has another lesson for me to learn in this. You see, if I had sold my car I would have had enough finances for the entire year upfront and therefore would not have needed to continue to trust Him day to day for provision. I’m receiving income from renting my car out and from supporters, but at the beginning of each day I still never know if I will have enough to make ends meet. That’s where the more trusting part comes in. I knowing that I am free in Him and now I need to learn how to be safe in Him. As I chose to trust Him throughout each day, by the end of the day, to my surprise, He is still good and still provides me with my daily manna; day by day, not year by year as I would have liked. But it keeps me coming back to Him each morning, each moment, because He really is the only way I can get through financially, mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. And as long as I let Him, He will always be faithful because that is just the way He is.

May all praise and thanks be given to Him, our Father and faithful Provider.

Why, hello there, Life.

Have you ever woken up and thought, “Where am I? And how on earth did I get here?”

I have; this very morning, in fact. And the weird thing is, I didn’t wake up on someone’s couch. I didn’t wake up with a splitting headache. I didn’t wake up in a resort on the beach. I woke up in my own bed, in my own room which I have been sleeping in for quite a while. I was wearing my usual pair of pajamas. And I was snuggled under my usual blanket. I opened my eyes and instantly knew where I was. I recognized the shadows casted on the wall by the stream of light coming in through the crack in the curtains. I knew exactly where I was and how I had gotten there. I was in my house, in Asia, and I had gotten here by car, plane, and taxi to be exact. But my first thought this morning was still, “Where am I? And how on earth did I get here?”

I know exactly where I am. I can mark out on a graph and name all the events, choices, and circumstances that have led up to me being here. But I still don’t understand it. I still cannot believe it. My life just totally took me by surprise. And each and every day is a surprise because I just never saw any of this coming.

I rolled over in my bed and stared at the ceiling in disbelief. I sighed. Life is such an adventure when you’re living it in Him.

The recent in betweens.

Here's a bit of what I have been up to this past month. Actually most of these are photos of what I've been up to in between what I've really been up to but since it appears that those are the only things I remember to take picture of, I thought I'd share.

This is what I see when I open my front door. I love my neighborhood

Spent a glorious weekend up in the mountains! I didn't think I was much of an  outdoors-y type of person. That is until I moved to a city of 23 million people with a severe lack of anything green and alive (the grass in the park that you are not allowed to walk on doesn't count)

Hungry, anyone?

Watching a stunning sunset while stuck on the bus in traffic for hours

Solving the Puzzle of Me

Today as I sat on my couch talking to Him, I stopped mumbling enough to listen to Him say this: “Don’t you see, Emily? It’s not about what I am in doing with you this year, or what I did last year, or what I’m going to do next year. It’s about you and Me. Forever.”

Three months ago my life took an unexpected turn. Again. I would like to say it was turned upside down but I wonder if it was upside down to begin with. I felt like my life was a jumble of odds and ends and I was trying to make sense of what to do with it all. Life is a puzzle with pieces that need to be put in the correct places or else it’s just awkward and incomplete. Without fulfilling the intended design of the puzzle the image produced will be distorted or in many cases, left unfinished. You may still be able to tell what picture lies on the puzzle but without each piece interlocking just so with it’s perfectly cut-out to match neighbor pieces, the puzzle will never get to communicate its full impact, its completed message. Many of us have set out to conquer that 1,000 piece puzzle found in the closet at our grandparents’ house. Driven by the pure boredom of a child forced to stay inside and be good as relatives chat about the weather and argue about conflicting details of certain memories, we sat down to attempt the puzzle. But how often did the puzzle get abandoned before it was finished? How often did we get distracted by our cousins playing outside? How often did we try so hard to make a certain piece be forced into fitting because it just seemed like the only option left? How many times did a younger sibling or a pet dog run carelessly by our masterpiece only to break up all our hard work and then we’d huff and puff in anger and blame all of our lack of puzzle success on said sibling or pet? And how many times did we get called away by someone else to pack up our unfinished endeavor back into the box because it was time to go?

I hope you see I’m not really talking about puzzles.

Our lives are composed of countless of choices, people, seasons, moments, habits, dreams, failures, successes, lessons, tears, and laughter. Each shaped by our personality, our tendencies, our aspirations, our fears, our experiences, and by how we chose to live out of our joys and our pains. Each piece is awkwardly shaped – unique and one of a kind. The key is figuring out how to combine, fit, and put together all those pieces right where they belong so we can produce a life of achieved potential, a life lived fully and completely, and a life that produces its intended statement. Our life is a box of puzzle pieces – a mixture of various elements, a heap of potential. Many of us remain that heap of potential and never manage to spill all of its contents on the floor and begin to construct its purpose. Some of us just manage to construct the flatten edged border of our lives; the parts with clear cut lines and boundaries but never venture into the wilds of the middle. And we have all in our quest of living life lost a piece and had to hunt around the room, under the sofas, under the tables to find that lost piece. If you’re like me then you usually find you’ve been sitting on the piece this whole time. A lot of us get deep into putting together who we are and how to live out of that, though some of us never get the chance to finish. We either start seemingly too late, get distracted along the way, or give up in frustration and lost ambition. And we all have at sometime let someone else help construct our puzzle. Not that engaging with other people is a bad thing, that is actually what we were made to do, but when we let other people, other circumstances, and other factors tell us who we are, what we look like, and how we should live, we end up losing the whole picture – the real picture.

Perhaps what I am saying doesn’t make sense at all. Perhaps it’s all just a bunch of cliché babble. But today at least for me, thinking about life this way makes it a little less daunting. It helps it makes sense a little better. Not that I understand it any better but I understand how to view it a little bit better. I fear I’m venturing into nonsense-cliché-ism again…

I think I’ve always view life merely as a path. You get on it and you just follow its line. Sometimes you get to a fork in the road and you have to make a choice. But nevertheless you just plow onward and onward hoping you didn’t make a wrong turn. I also viewed my life as a series of events: dots on a line or a graph that heightened, fell, and evened out. But most of the points are self-contained, they are specific instances, phases, seasons, stages, and individual features. Some spill over into others, and others affect some but it just is what it is and you just go along with it trying to make the best of it and hoping you’re making the right decisions.

Wow, I am really all over the place here. Much like my actual life I suppose. (There’s a double meaning in that. I’m clever, you know. Or at least so I’m told.)

But to bring it back to the beginning of my post, my life isn’t about a series of events, a series of milestones and decisions. It’s not about forks in the road or “this time of life” or “that time of life”. It is about the whole picture, the whole purpose, the complete intended design. So often I get stuck. I can’t see past a certain factor or situation. I get all consumed with just a few pieces of the puzzle and try to figure out how it’s all going to work out when I’m only obsessively looking at 5 pieces of a 5,000 piece endeavor. It is not about a decision. It is just about loving Him. And that is it. You do that first and foremost and the pieces will come together just as they were intended to, just as He designed you to fit together. And don’t just love Him with some pieces of your life. You might produce a semi-completed, lopsided picture that way. But if you want Him to receive the full blown glory in your life, you’re going to have to include all the pieces. Spill out all the contents of your box of potential and set out to love Him with your whole life, every single part of it. Surrender the pieces you don’t like, those ones you do, the ones you want to keep for yourself in the box, and the ones you're sitting on.

My tendency is to get frustrated. I can’t see how it’s all going to work out. I can’t figure out what should go where or what the picture is even supposed to look like. I don’t understand why He wants to shift certain portions to different locations. I get impatient when searching for fits and try and manipulate angles and lie to myself and say “It works. It’s fine.” And many times I forget completely what I’m even trying to accomplish. And that’s when I need to refer to my reference: the photo on the cover of the box – the Image I’m trying to display. That is what it is about. Keeping our eyes on Him. All the time. Not just in context of this year or the current season of life we find ourselves in, but all the time, every day. Drawing from the real picture, the eternal purpose we will start to realize that the awkwardness, the toil, the mess of our puzzle is beginning to come together into something beautiful.

Forgive my ramble. I’m not sure what came over me. What I started off meaning to say is not at all what I’ve said. But if you’ve bothered to bear with me and read through the whole thing, I hope you will join me in spilling out the contents of your own puzzle onto the floor and dive into loving Him with all your pieces. The odd shaped ones, the corners, the dark colored ones that will seem pointless, the ones that seem to belong to a different puzzle, and the ones bright with color and shape. Let’s not get hung up on what we understand or don’t understand. And let’s just love Him with all we’ve got.

We’ve heard that all before. But it’s still true.

Three months ago my life took an unexpected turn. “But that piece can’t possibly go there! We were suppose to work on this section of the puzzle first!” I had exclaimed. But little did I know that when I decided to finally give up my agenda and give into the pursuit of Him, pieces fit together more beautifully than I ever could have imagined. I don’t understand their beauty yet but as He is revealed in my life each day, I am made a little more whole.

I do apologize. This post is unoriginal, raw, random, and reminiscent of that person who hogs all the sharing time at ch.rch gatherings with emotional cliches and painful to bear sappy analogies. But this is a blog after all! ;-)

A Year in Photos

This year has been composed of 7 different countries, 32 flights, 1 elephant ride, numerous adventures, many good friends, and countless memories.
Here are a few of my favorites...

 

And that's not even a glimpse! What a year! Can't wait to see what this next one will be composed of!

I've Got the Joy Down In My Heart.

On the flight back to Asia I sat next to an older Thai man. At one point during our conversations he said, “How do you define ‘success’? For me, I would answer that with another question: How many times a week do you have tears of joy?”

His statement struck me deeply. I am still pondering over what he said. This was unlike any kind of success I’ve ever heard of from anywhere else before – not like anything I’d heard from culture, religion, teachers, politicians, businessmen, or pastors. I immediately liked how it sounded. I liked the idea. I liked the perspective his words offered. But it wasn’t until three days later I began to understand perhaps what it meant.

I arrived back in Asia dazed. How on earth has this happened again? I asked. How did I manage to end up here again? What kind of path in life is this supposed to be? After living in Asia for almost a year, I am still trying to figure out how I got here. Because it all happened so fast, even though I can see my whole life had been slowly leading up to it. It has been a fun journey. It has been an adventurous ride. It has been a priceless gift that I would not trade for anything. But it has been difficult. It has been a bloody battle, a continuous struggle, and a painful hike. So, although I am so glad to return to Asia for another year, I am tired – exhausted, in fact. I feel drained. All my “life muscles” are sore that any range of motion hurts. I am broken down. I am overwhelmed. I am hurting. And I am often on the verge of giving up completely.

But that is OK. That is OK because sometimes life is like that and it is OK because when it comes down to it, I’m still crying tears of joy. I sat on the people-packed subway yesterday with my heart aching, my mind shutting down, and my shoulders slouched. But as I looked around my subway car at the people who surrounded me, my eyes got blurry and a single tear slipped out and danced down my cheek. I reached up to wipe it away when I realized that it was not a sad tear, it was a joyful tear. You see, underneath my desire to only remain under the blankets of my bed for forever is a knowledge that my Father is still good,  He is up to something in my life, and He for some reason wants me where I am right now. A woman with a beaming smile or a bubbly, laughing child is usually what I picture when I think of joy. Not a girl in a black jacket crying on a busy subway. But there I was. Amidst what I was feeling, among my exhaustion, I was able to take a deep breath, smile, and know that He is good, so good. And that is joy too. Deep down I still know He is who He says He is. The highs and lows, the ups and downs, the wins and the losses of life aside, when I think about Him and His love for us, I am still overwhelmed with joy. And for me right now joy is not jumping up and down, being in a great happy mood. It is taking a moment to remember to smile, letting a tear escape, and reminding myself of Who is giving me life in that very moment. And because of that, even though I might feel like I want to give up, He is still succeeding in my life.

Today this joy is my strength because today He is still good. Just like He was yesterday, and just like He’ll be tomorrow.