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Wednesday, 19 January 2011

  • Parenting

    It's been a long time since I've journaled, but I feel particularly compelled by all the discussion surrounding parenting that's been on the web, especially as the main article of discussion was about "traditional Asian parenting."  I've had many years since leaving home for college to reflect on my childhood and the ways I was parented.  If you were to read through my blogs from college, I would guess the majority of them at least touched on my relationship with my parents, and at least for the first 2 years, weren't very positive.  I left for college feeling that my parents didn't understand me, that they pushed me too hard in school and extra-curriculars, that their expectations were unreasonable, and that I was only too glad to escape.

    BCF was instrumental to my forgiveness of my parents for all the ways I thought they had wronged me with their outrageous expectations and condemnation of anything short of perfection.  It was only through this process of forgiveness that I believe I can write this entry today without any sense of bitterness and resentment.  Whether or not there was truth in whether my parents needed forgiving for their actions was not the point.  The forgiveness released a new freedom in ME.  I experienced an ability to love and communicate in ways I never had before - I believe at the time I said that I had become a different person, but now I know that I was really just becoming more the person God had created me to be all along.

    From that time on, my relationship with my parents has been ever-growing.  No, it's still not perfect, it's definitely not like Kristy's (whose parents support her every decision and are her best friends), but I dare say we have a healthy, functional relationship now.  My parents and I can communicate about decisions I'm making in my life, they are more supportive now even when I make decisions they don't agree with, they are more accepting of ways that I struggle or fail, and we've all become more open about our thoughts and feelings.

    And that leads me to my point I suppose.  As much as my parents were similar in their expectation of perfection as Amy Chua, and as much as I had serious issues to work through upon starting college, I still very much appreciate much of how my parents raised me.  I think my parents expecting the best from me helped me to be some who is self-motivated, has high expectations for myself and others, and is proficient in many areas (not just limited to music and academics).  I greatly appreciate all the music lessons, the sports lessons, the academic tutoring...I really don't think I'd be the same person without all of that.  I see how all kids, not just some kids, all kids need someone to believe in them.  And even if it came off badly at points, seemed like it was just berating and yelling, my parents expected my best, and they knew that what I thought was my best wasn't always my actual best yet.  I still wish they could've expressed that differently, or perhaps communicated that clearly, but nevertheless, clearly I've learned that lesson and expect the same of the kids I work with.

    But where my parents differ from Chua, and of which I'm even more grateful, is that my parents saw the value of developing my EQ as well.  They did send me to summer camps (yes, some of them were those academic nerdy camps too), sleepovers, they encouraged playdates and sleepovers and parties, and for the most part enjoyed hosting my friends.  They understood that learning to navigate socially, developing groups of good friends, that was important.  And learning how to do a host of things that would help me as an adult were important as well - i.e. doing my own laundry, changing a flat tire, doing basic house maintenance, etc.

    My parents weren't perfect parents, and at this point in our relationship, they will be the first to admit that.  They're human.  I think in our bitterness and resentment, we can forget that they are imperfect too.  My parents didn't work with kids before they had me.  They had no prior training - talk about being thrown into the fire.  They tried to adjust and make things work, but when they didn't know what to do, they fell back on what their parents did, whether that was good or bad.  But they have tried to grow and change, and maybe that took longer than I would've hoped, but it's happening, and our current relationship is a reflection of that.

    So here's the lessons that I learn from my examination of my parents as well as myself.
    1) We need to have grace for our parents.  They are human and fallible.  In the ways that we feel we were wronged, we must forgive them because without that forgiveness, we will grow to become bitter and resentful.  But if we can forgive and view the relationship objectively, typically we'll be able to see all the good stuff they did for us.  In the end, how we view our childhood is on us.  There's nothing anyone can do to change what happened, but we can help make the present and future with our parents better.

    2) We need to become people who are self-reflective.  The reason so many of us become like our parents is because we don't sit down and really reflect on what we saw in our parents and what we see reflected in ourselves.  If there are things we disagree with, then we have an opportunity to grow in those areas.  Without reflection, we simply become an emotional reaction to our parents.

    3) Working with kids (in a structured, consistent setting) prior to having kids is the best way to train to become parents.  It's then that we learn our natural tendencies and can remedy problem areas before we have our own kids.  There's nothing like first-hand experience!

    4) Every child is different.  To think that we can even have the same parenting styles for all of our kids is unrealistic.  Sure, there's some common ground, but the best parents are those who see their children as individuals who need different things.  We don't interact with our friends all in the same way, so why do we think our kids would be any different?

    In the end, whether we're talking about us being the child or the parent, we need Jesus.  We need Jesus to come in and heal the broken parts of our relationships, and we need Jesus to give us wisdom about how to continue growing our relationships.

Friday, 02 April 2010

  • Tonight was one of those nights that reminds you of your finiteness, coupled with God's necessity.  While in the process, I wished tonight never happened, but in hindsight, I can only wish it would happen more often.

    We took Ben's soccer team (a bunch of the kids we normally work with plus a handful more) to the Galaxy vs. Chivas USA game.  We thought, great experience for a soccer team!  They get to watch what it looks like to really play as a team and play at a high, competitive level.  Well, of course getting them there and trying to corral 15 little boys is about as much of a nightmare as you would imagine, but let's add in the twists to this adventure as well.  While our regular boys are more than aware of rules and consequences and how we operate, the new boys were not.  They decided to push boundaries all night, testing to see if we'd actually punish them, and in general, going completely and utterly nuts.  It really brought me back to my first year doing Bible Club when we measured our effectiveness by how much we limited the chaos.  I haven't done this much stern talking/raising of my voice for a couple of years.

    As if that wasn't already difficult enough, one of our boys, who is allergic to peanuts, panicked with what he thought was an allergic reaction.  Of course, this is the one boy who we do have a medical waiver for, but it isn't with us.  So we rush him to the on-site EMT and get him checked out, all while I'm on the phone with one of my housemates asking her to throw apart my room looking for that stupid form with his Medical number on it.  The situation does resolve peacefully with the child not showing any allergic symptoms, as well as my housemate finding the waiver, and no one needing to go to the ER.  My theory after all of this was that he ate a cookie that was processed in a plant that also processes peanuts, and he got the tiniest bit of peanut essence in his system that made him feel sick for like 20 min.  While all ended well, it wasn't exactly what my stress level was calling for.

    Then on the car ride back, we hear the distinct sound of someone puking, followed by, "uh-oh..."  You know what that means...yeah...puke all over the child and my car.  By the way, getting my car detailed tomorrow...

    And then as we're driving home, we get a call from one of the moms (who we assume is calling to see where her child is because of course we're late).  She says, uh...there's been an incident at Villa Parke (park on the corner) - are you guys ok?  We said we're fine, and she warns us that there are cops and ambulances everywhere.  So when we get home, we pull up to our street to see the entire section directly in front of our house completely blocked off with police cars and sirens.  After many detours to drop the kids off, we finally get a straight story that it was a car accident involving 1 Black man and 2 Latina women.  After the car accident, the Black man gets out of his car and starts beating on the Latina women.  He refuses to stop and pulls a weapon as neighbors rush to help.  His complete refusal to stop even after the cops come and pull guns on him results in him getting shot on the sidewalk about 15 feet from my driveway.

    When we move into the city, we know we're moving into a place filled with violence and brokenness and rage and disfunction.  And we've been told that our place is to simply walk alongside Jesus as He does what He does best - transform and redeem His people and His communities.  Yet it becomes all too easy all too quickly to rely on the skills we've learned in our time here; it becomes too easy to think of the 90% of the time when things are peaceful as the norm; it becomes all too easy to simply forget that we live in the city.  And in His good and gracious timing, He reminds us of our frailty, of our limits, of our powerlessness, of our minuteness.  He gives me that night where I realize that no matter how much I learn about youth ministry, no matter how many kids our ministry touches, there are ALWAYS more kids in need and that we've barely touched the tip of the iceberg.  Where I recognize that no matter how many skills I've developed, it is God that changes hearts.  That no matter how much community transformation has happened while we're here, God is still rooting out evil and brokenness.  That while I know distinctly why I moved here, I still need to continually be reminded by God of the needs here.  That while I would undoubtedly offer my physical life for the sake of the Kingdom, the odds of that happening here are very real.

    I needed tonight - I needed to have my life put back in perspective, to have God put firmly back on His throne, and to understand again my place as a community transformer only because God has first transformed me.  It is a humbling, sobering, correct place to be.  So while I don't necessarily wish for a repeat of tonight, I am grateful that God knows the needs of my soul and uses the crazy circumstances around me to meet them.

Sunday, 10 January 2010

  • You know, it's funny.  Blogging is one of those things where if you can't get into the rhythm and other things in life pile up, just get's ignored.  I do in fact blame the last 2 months on not having wireless internet.  There's something about blogging on the shared desktop in the living room that is not particularly appealing.  I need to get into a rhythm and feel like I'm comfortable and in my own zone to really journal well.

    Anyway, big highlights the last few months.  We've moved into a new house down the street.  It's just a rental house (nope, haven't purchased a home yet), but it's a lot bigger, and Kristy and I have 2 new roommates.  It's been good.  And as we're finally getting settled in and fixing things up, it's really becoming home :).

    We're pretty much shutting down Food for Thought Catering.  I'm still taking an event here or there, particularly for friends, but it seems that the big push for new business is over.  It's been a good season with the company, and I definitely learned a lot.  I'm excited to head into new opportunities that will allow me to learn more about business and to set me up for hopefully eventually having my own restaurant at some point.  I'm currently very close to closing the deal on a new job at the moment.  The offer is pending my passing some MS Office tests, so will post again when I hopefully get my official offer.

    Ministry's been absolutely crazy as usual.  We've added 2 new staff to children's ministry this year, which is awesome.  At the same time, we're upping our expectations, particularly with mentorship of the kids, so it seems like we add more staff, add more work, and the net is that nothing's really changed :P.  A lot of our kids are doing really well though.  We've seen a lot of character changes, added stability, and increased committment to our ministry structures.  We're learning now how to develop more of the small character issues.  We're excited to see how the kids continue to develop.

    Things with family are tough.  Well, parts of it.  I'm getting along with my parents better than ever.  But things are all over the place with the brother.  Still praying and clinging to hope that he will respond to God and understand who he is in the Lord.

    Overall, it's been a good, challenging, growing season as always.  I wouldn't want it any other way :).

Friday, 25 September 2009

  • Grey's was profound tonight...or maybe just to me because Bailey's comments about grief resonate all too soundly with my soul.  "I can't care anymore.  Stephens is not my child.  O'Malley was not my child.  I just have to stop caring so much because I can't keep feeling like this..."  My heart is too fragile for this kind of work and so I compartmentalize.  I shove away the grief, the sadness, that sinking hopelessness because when I let myself think about it, when I let myself feel all those feelings for all of my kids, all those I've mentored, the ones I've invested in, I just can't do it.  Maybe God feels like this sometimes, feels that grief and that pain that lodges itself so deeply into the pit of your stomach that no amount of clawing or digging can get rid of.  Maybe that's the point...that you can't make it go away...that it reminds you that for as much pain as there is, the joy is that much greater.

    But sometimes I just don't know what to do with it.  It makes me freeze, become paralyzed at the weight of it.  It makes me think, why take another step when the step could just add to the heaviness.

    There's no avoiding the pain...it will always be there.  There's no getting around the fact that there's sin and brokenness and sometimes we get to be the recipient of that, or maybe just the collateral damage.  But how do we jump back into the ocean when we've already been smashed against the rocks once, twice, too many times to count...  How does Jesus just go for that one lost sheep?  How does He chase after that one sheep, never knowing if that sheep follows Him back home?  But He doesn't just do it once, He does it over and over and over again.  How do you lose so many sheep and never lose hope that the next one will come back?  How do you hope and not get crushed if it doesn't work out?

    Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon son of John, do you truly love me more than these?"
          "Yes, Lord," he said, "you know that I love you."
          Jesus said, "Feed my lambs."

     16Again Jesus said, "Simon son of John, do you truly love me?"
          He answered, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you."
          Jesus said, "Take care of my sheep."

     17 The third time he said to him, "Simon son of John, do you love me?"
          Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, "Do you love me?" He said, "Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you."

        Jesus said, "Feed my sheep. 18 I tell you the truth, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go."

    God was referring to Peter's death, but when I read it, I see that it is the cross we bear in life with Christ, life and death.  When we love Jesus, we take care of his sheep.  Taking care of his sheep often results in being lead places we do not want to go.  "I just have to stop caring because I can't keep feeling like this..."  I can't keep feeling like this, but I can, and I will, and I'll never stop caring even if it kills me.

Sunday, 16 August 2009

  • This was my response and reflection about this blog entry I read:

    I am a follower of Jesus, and I don't take offense to this post, as much as I think you have correctly identified a large portion of the American Church.  We largely do go to our nice churches, live in our comfortable suburban homes, and seem content on offering our tithes to support church programs that "reach out" to the poor and disenfranchised.  However, there are those Christians, as one person posted above, who believe there is more to being a Christian than merely donating our money.  We are not only called into ministering hands-on to those who suffer, but we are called to suffer alongside them.  This is a radical call that requires commitment and sacrifice - a complete going against the grain of American culture.  I make no excuses for my brothers and sisters who turn a blind eye to the suffering around us, but I am well aware of the difficulty in making the choice to actively love the poor and suffering around us.

    As someone who has deeply felt this conviction in my life, I have committed my life to being an advocate and agent of change and reconciliation among the poor and oppressed in the city.  I have lived in this neighborhood in Los Angeles County since I graduated from college, a square mile that is one of the densest populated and least resourced areas in Los Angeles County.  I am part of a Christian organization that's vision is to build relationships with neighbors, mentor children and youth, and bring the Gospel in an unintimidating way through weekly Bible Clubs with children and youth.  As we see needs, we begin new structures, including a tutoring program, exposure trips to colleges, big cities, the mountains, etc.  We spend time in the schools talking to teachers, finding out the ways we can be most helpful in our work with the children and their academics.  And beyond anything, I believe that our presence here, our prayers, our love makes an impact on the spiritual powers that have a hold on the city - the way that satan tries to maintain his hold on the neighborhood through gangs, drugs, alcohol, violence.  Do I think I'm doing anything extraordinary that no one else could do?  Of course not.  But do I think it takes a great deal of consideration and true conviction to be able to life this lifestyle without burning out?  No question.  But ultimately, being a follower of Jesus is exactly as this writer states, it should be a lifestyle, not just something we do when it's convenient or easy. 

    The longer I live in the city, the more I realize that it my responsibility is not to sit around and condemn other Christians for not agreeing with me about Jesus' mandate to love the poor, but I need to pray for more workers, pray for others to receive the same level of conviction, and to mentor and teach others about what I believe Jesus says about loving the poor.  As I live out my convictions, I hope that other people will see my actions and be prompted to love those around them as well.  But it is not good enough to expect that my actions alone will prompt others to newfound conviction - I must teach others as well, to let my actions and words speak the same truth and message.  This is when our testimony as believers is most powerful.  May God continue to teach me how to walk in His truth and to teach me His heart.