Yesterday's Mouse

Yesterday I watched a baby field mouse
Running around behind Ontario Hall.
It was the length of my thumb
And its body shook in the wind.

I stopped down to watch it race,
I dared not touch the thing.
Around and 'round it ran on the concrete,
Searching, hunting, looking for Mom.

It climbed onto my shoe
And in fear that it would climb up my leg,
I gently kicked it off.

I wonder what became of the baby field mouse.

Did it find home or warmth or
did it die in the cold November air?
If you find a small grey mouse
the length of a thumb, Please let me know.

nobodies and somebodies

This week I found myself wishing that I could be a nobody. Wishing that I could go back home after class and not have anything to worry about except school and maybe groceries. It triggered a memory of a short poem I had written back in second year when I did go back home after class and not have anything to worry about except school and groceries.

Enjoy!

Identity


All my life I have wanted to be a somebody,

But by trying to become a somebody, I became a nobody.

As a nobody I learned what it meant to be a somebody,

And I realized being a nobody isn't so bad after all.

Rain and Canadian Art

What a rainy weekend to be in Toronto! It's strange to have typical Kingston weather in Toronto, but I definitely feel desensitized to the copious amounts of water falling from the sky.

Being at home is so comfortable. I really should schedule more of these weekends into my life.

I was very fortunate to plan a trip home this weekend because it coincided with the Grand Reopening of the Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO). Beginning yesterday and ending tomorrow, the AGO is open to the public for free! I guess this is as close as Canada gets to enculturating her citizens, unlike Britain whose British Museum and National Gallery are always free to the general public. Nevertheless, I took the subway down with a surprisingly quiet and sombre companion and we waited patiently in the rain for our free entrance into the Art Gallery.

Going abroad has given me a basis with which to compare our Canadian art galleries. One of the most evident contrasts was the use of nature. The new Frank Gehry-designed AGO incorporates beams of Douglas fir and a beautiful winding staircase crafted out of wood. Moreover, some of the largest art pieces were simply portions of trees. Even one of the centre pieces of the gift shop sprouted bare branches. Canadian art has traditionally emphasized landscape and our natural resources, but will we ever break free from this natural inspiration or will it always be a staple to the Canadian art diet?

My most exciting discovery was Canadian painter, Cornelius Krieghoff, who painted in the mid-1800s. He painted Canadian life in the 1800s with lots of snow and ice in the winter and the glorious colours of changing leaves in the fall (see above). What struck me as fascinating was its resemblance to Chinese art in that the majority of the canvas (or rice paper) is covered by landscape, while the people are insignificantly small. Not all of his paintings are done in this manner, but the similarity is enough to make me think about the truth in the painting styles.

Trapped in cities, we forget about the land and the lakes. I am so far removed from nature that I forget how insignificantly small I am in this vast world. Sometimes I stand in front of Lake Ontario and watching the line where sea meets sky strikes a chord in my heart. We are so small, but we are also capable of doing so much. Who are we that the Creator of the world should love us?

praying for world peace

As futile as it seems to pray for world peace, it is part of seeing God's kingdom "on earth as it is in heaven." The article below encourages us to keep praying, and perhaps our prayers may move us to action someday.


Sudan declares ceasefire in Darfur

Associated Press
November 12, 2008 at 9:31 AM EST

KHARTOUM — Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir has announced a unilateral ceasefire by government forces in the devastated Darfur region and is calling for rebels to join in peace negotiations.

Today's announcement launches a new push by the Khartoum government to show it is willing to make peace in Darfur, where at least 300,000 people have been killed and 2.5 million driven from their homes in fighting since 2003.

Darfur's multiple rebel groups have so far dismissed the government peace moves, calling them insincere, and has not signed on to a ceasefire.

Past ceasefires announced by Khartoum have collapsed.

Mr. Bashir also says he's willing to pay compensation to Darfurians who lost their homes to help them return and rebuild.

living in soft-focus

The past two days have been absolutely gorgeous. It's amazing how the weather changes my mood so much, but I've already mentioned that a few times on this blog. There must be extra water in the air, but the trees and building and sunlight make the entire landscape appear in soft-focus. I strolled downtown yesterday and watched the sunlight bathe the buildings and trees in a warm cloud of yellow and observed the yellow carpets under the trees dappled with spots of green grass. It was wondrous.

I've stretched myself quite thin these past two weeks and God has been reminding me (through His Word and through Val, a lovely minister at St. James' Anglican Church) that I need to be keeping my Sabbath. I've neglected it this year, citing excuses of work and... more work; but I'm definitely feeling the crunch. I almost want to declare this week "Hermit Week," but alas, I have too many things on my plate!

Isaiah's gentle reminder is especially fitting in our campus's week of 24/7 prayer:

" And foreigners who bind themselves to the Lord
to serve him,
to love the name of the Lord,
and to worship him,
all who keep the Sabbath without desecrating it and who hold fast to my covenant--
these I will bring to my holy mountain and give them joy in my house of prayer.
Their burnt offerings and sacrifices will be accepted on my altar;
for my house will be called a house of prayer for all nations."

Isaiah 56:6-7 (NIV; italics added)

Es schneit!

Winter ist gekommen.

Activist? Who, me?

I graduated from a conservative Christian high school and entering university, I would never have imagined that one day 3 years down the road, I would be sitting at a conference on Leadership in Activism. I only signed up because I felt it relevant to my job as an Intergroup Facilitator, but once I sat down, I was immediately captivated by all the speakers and the issues they were raising. We had phenomenal speakers from Sgt. Debbie Bodkin who spent months in Darfur chronicling stories directly from the genocide victims to Major Brent Beardsley who was part of a group who foresaw the Rwandan genocide. We also had speakers on Canada's health care system, multiculturalism, and poverty. I wish I had invited friends to come with me, especially people from fellowship. The work that needs to be done is so great that I can only attempt at these issues by prayer. It is wonderful to serve a great and mighty God who can make things better, but we must rise up in prayer and action together.

Among other ideas, the main point I've come to realize is that if anything is worth doing, it is worth working hard for. It's easy to live a life of passivity by ignoring what's happening in the world around us; but as our pastor spoke this morning on Philippians 2:1-11, we must be living with "eyes wide open." It is our responsibility to look not only to our own interests, but also to the interests of others. Living in Canada is a privilege, and with privilege comes responsibility (Ever After, anyone?).

Now the question is: what is my next step? How can I prepare myself to serve the world best with the gifts God has given me?

Old People

Our society doesn't give enough thought to old people. Just the other day, I read that the standards of nursing homes were below standards, with private nursing homes worse than public, government-funded nursing homes. (This is not to say all nursing homes are bad, just the majority.)

In the past, I may have stereotyped the elderly because I didn't know any better. I must've thought they either talked too much or talked too little, but perhaps they talked too much because nobody else listened or talked too little because nobody asked.

Hearing the elderly poet last week completely changed my mind about fading old minds. Hers was sharp with wit and clever with words. Then this morning at St. James Anglican Church, there was an older lady at our breakfast table. The rest of us were students (undergrad, OT, and even a recent Ph.D. graduate) and we were chatting about future plans because the message had been about uncertainty and God's guidance. We finally asked the older lady what she was currently doing, what she had done, and what she was looking forward to. She told us that she was nearing 70 and she began to slowly bring out some of the things she had done in life. She had taught home economics for years and then became a director for an international company. She had also been a spiritual director, but after moving to Kingston, she couldn't direct because she didn't have a spiritual director in Kingston. 'Tis a pity: she has a lot to give.

It's so encouraging to meet people at different parts of their life. Growing up in a megachurch has kept people relegated to their own fellowships that are defined by age or life stages. I've been blessed to get to know some of the wonderful elderly, and I hope I can continue to learn from their wisdom.

"Gray hair is a crown of splendor;

it is attained by a righteous life."

- Proverbs 16:31

God knows

With the weather changes come my seasonal melancholic mood swings (aka Seasonal Affective Disorder). Feeling quite low since coming back from Thanksgiving, I took my camera and headed downtown to pick up an item. Again the colours on the trees and buildings were fanastically overwhelming. There were colours I had never seen before and colours are the kinds of things you must see to understand and to know of its existence. Maybe someday I'll be able to imagine colours I have never seen before--sometimes I think God has a whole laboratory of colour in Heaven: test tubes and treasure chests full of colours our limited eyes cannot perceive!

It was a delightful trek. I finally walked into Cooke's Fine Foods on Brock St. where I finally located McVitie's Chocolate-covered Digestives (the same kind my best friend mailed to me from England while on her exchange trip). Sadly, I didn't have the appetite to buy them, but now I know where I can get them!

After making my purchase and browsing through Indigo, I began my journey back to residence. I bumped into the painter lady whose hands I had massaged the other evening. I found out she teaches art! It was encouraging to see her again. She's an absolutely beautiful woman who has aged well. Continuing my walk, I walked past an old lady resting on her cane with her eyes closed. I asked if she needed help, and she gave me one of the most brilliant and genuine smiles I've ever seen. "No, I'm only resting," she said. As I walked back onto campus, I took the scenic route by Summerhill and bumped into a Wally resident with whom I had walked through the Wolfe Island Corn Maze. She immediately embraced me with a hug, a kiss, and a smile. She even remembered my name!

God knows when we need a little pick-me-up. God knows when we're downhearted and need strangers to deliver smiles. It is a happy thought to know that God knows--and that is all that matters.

Here's to you, Mum

Tonight I had the good fortune to enjoy a women's evening with a handful of regular students and a handful of mature students led by three facilitators at the Ban Righ Centre for Women. This even had been publicized for first year students, and when I had inquired about it earlier, I was told that the spots were reserved for first year students only. However, I bumped into a don at lunch who told me that there were still spaces available. Due to some more confusion, I was told that I was placed on a wait-list and would be called at 5:30pm if a spot opened up. Fortunately, I received a call at 5:15pm and soon I was well on my way.

It was an evening of great delight. Through my years at Queen's, I haven't had many opportunities to meet with mature women students and I loved hearing their stories of what brought them back to school. One had been a high school drop-out who is now a single mom and plans to be a doctor. Another had served in the military and a stay-at-home mom before returning to study art and environmental science. Still another was a painter with grown children and had never been in a long-lasting relationship. Their tenacity showed me that nothing had stopped them from pursuing an education later on in life.

Our three facilitators were very exciting people. The first lady was a poetess. She was 76 years old and she wrote the most beautiful, poignant, and clever poetry I have ever heard read by the actual poet. I will write poetry when I am older.

The second lady was an entrepreneur who had opened the first Body Shop in Kingston back in 1982. She now manages three Body Shops in the Kingston area. She taught us that make-up can only make us feel different, but it doesn't change who we are. She also taught us to give hand massages to one another and connect with another person through touch. It was wonderful to receive a massage from a pair of beautifully-aged painter's hands and to give one in return.

The third lady was a clinical psychologist who discussed relationships in all their different forms and had us share about our relationships. Most of the conversation was dominated by the mothers in the group. One shared her fears about her 17-year-old son growing up and leaving home. She sounded like a fantastic mother: reasonable, wise, and loving. I think she may have felt afraid that her son wouldn't return. I provided my perspective from the other side of the coin. As a daughter who has been away for almost 4 years, I told them that this time of being away had only taught me to love my mom more. Although I returned a bit rebellious after first year, each successive year away from home has changed me into a better daughter. This summer marked a significant change in my relationship. After my time at Taize, I returned with a passion to love my family better. I told the ladies that going away had given me the space and time to realize that I could only love my mother back with a fraction of the love she had given me, but I still wanted to be the best daughter she could have as she was the best mother she could be for me. This brought tears to a few mothers' eyes and I realized how blessed I had been to have a happy and healthy upbringing. My mother knows she isn't perfect in everything she does, but she's done a great job at being a mother and I love her all the more for it.

I realize I haven't blogged much about my Taize experience (and I highly recommend it to anyone who's visiting France or in the vicinity), but when I spent two days in silence desiring to love God more, He placed in my heart a strong desire to love my family more. I remember pouring out tears and repenting for the times I hadn't been a lovable daughter or sister, and God placed more love in my heart for my family.

I used to be confused about Luke 14:26, which says, "If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters—yes, even his own life—he cannot be my disciple." I used to wonder why God would want us to hate the people we love in our life. I now realize that our love for God is so much greater that if we can abandon our family for Him, He will pour out so much more love into our hearts to become an even more loving daughter and sister and friend.

good, pleasing, and perfect

Talking about the weather is often labelled as superficial, shallow, small talk, but the weather affects me so much that I must talk about it. The weather today has been waffling between beautiful, blue sky and sunshine to heavy, grey clouds that threaten rain. This autumn, I've noticed that the leaves are particularly beautiful and the colours are absolutely entertaining! I pointed it out to a friend, who pointed back out to me that Kingston has received much less rain in the autumn of this year. The bright, sunny days have allowed us to enjoy the changing colours so much more. It is a glorious autumn indeed. What a blessing to enjoy it before I graduate.

Thanksgiving Weekend was wonderful. Surprisingly, I didn't have the chance to sit down and reflect upon God's bountiful blessings, but I had a lot of time to talk about God's will with my family and friends. Romans 12:2 came up more than once in different circumstances with different people, so I had more opportunity to chew on it. The verse says

2Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be
transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and
approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.

I believe I have missed out on God's perfect will in the past through my impulsivity and meager mind. As much as I like to live with "no regrets," there is still one decision that I look back upon and wish I had chosen differently. Things would have been different, and I do believe that God will work in us regardless of our decisions, yet I'm still left with the bad aftertaste of choosing foolishly.

With graduation looming and applications to be sent in, I really don't want to miss out on God's good, pleasing, and perfect will. I don't want to miss the boat. Despite doing a psychology reading today on "uncertainty reduction theory," there are just some things that will remain uncertain until we arrive. From my perspective, the best way to negotiate this uncertainty is to accept that knowing the ending would totally ruin the adventure of life. Oh, and that God has the best plan for our lives if we choose to follow Him.

Now it remains for me to renew my mind so that I may "test and approve what God's will is--his good, pleasing, and perfect will."

Perfect Day

Today has been a wonderful day. I haven't had many like it since school kicked in and assignments piled up. A big source of stress this year has been my thesis--I feel like I'm thinking about it every other moment. I've been so frustrated at times that I've broken down and cried because I didn't know what to do.

But today was a good day. The sun was warm and bright. The colour of the leaves are at their prime. Looking at them makes me happy and I feel calm.

Thanksgiving Weekend is finally coming up and I get to go home again! I've felt more homesick this year than any other year, and I think it's because I know my time at Queen's is drawing to a close. I know I have a fifth year waiting, but I'm treating this year like my last year. I never know, it might be.

Yesterday morning, my devotional featured a woman named Simone Weil. She wrote an essay titled "Reflections on the Right Use of School Studies with a View to the Love of God." Her main concept is this: "All academic pursuits train the mind to focus its full attention on the problem or the task at hand. This focus of attention is the very substance of prayer in which God is the subject. In this way, learning has a value in and of itself, as a lower means. But it also trains one to give the necessary attention to the higher end: loving God in prayer."

As I reflected on this in relation to my thesis, it dawned on me that I was not doing my thesis for my thesis supervisor. I was writing it for God. God is my ultimate thesis supervisor, and I should find joy in serving Him through my work on my thesis. This little breakthrough has changed my attitude towards the seemingly insurmountable task of a thesis. And it's just beginning...

A familiar reminder: "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving." Colossians 3:23-24

Last First Week of Undergrad

The first week of school offers a superfluous amount of time for reflection and planning ahead. Classes are light, readings haven't piled up yet, and essays are in the far future. Entering my fourth and final year of undergrad, I'm beginning to worry that I'll be nostalgic throughout the year as I'll be saying good-bye to things I won't do and people I won't see again. For example, yesterday was the last first day of undergrad that I will ever experience. It's silly, but I know that every moment spent here is precious because it is limited and will soon be over.

As I was teaching a friend to swim today, I began thinking what I would do differently if I were to do undergrad all over again. I wouldn't care so much about what other people thought about me. I would take hold of more opportunities to share about Jesus. I wouldn't let anything hold me back from trying new things. [The swimming part is relevant to my thoughts because I had known this friend since 1st year and had offered to teach back then, but it's finally happening in our 4th year. How much more could we have done if she had learned earlier? We'll never know.]

I've come a long way since my first year, and living in the same residence again brings back memories. Some have commented and said that it is like coming full circle, yet I disagree. Perhaps my experience is more analogous to a sine wave with 2nd year being the crest and 3rd year being the trough.

Third year was an awful challenge for me. I suddenly encountered new ideas and was asked to become a person that I didn't agree with or understand. Going to England and living with my Communist roommate only magnified my confusion. I was reading through Conversations: A Forum for Authentic Transformation when this passage popped out at me:

While it is true that God is always present in the core of ourselves, how
we relate to God and how we experience this indwelling change over time.
Likewise, people involved in such stage transitions will think new thoughts and
interpret their faith tradition differently than before. Sometimes the weight of
the tradition may appear to be a barrier forbidding them to grow and develop.
These may be tempted to abandon their traditions because their theological
resources are too meager to enable them to fashion a more adequate
interpretation of the Jesus story or Christian doctrines in the light of their
new experience. (Ruffing, Janet. "Opening One's Heart to Another: The
Rediscovery of Spiritual Direction")

This helped me understand myself so much better because I have been feeling lost, misunderstood, and misunderstanding in my walk with Christ. Nevertheless, my faith is something I won't abandon, but I'll need a lot of time to make sense of it once again. Maybe this year will help me find my way again.

Of Princes and Princesses

The kingdom of God (SYN: kingdom of heaven) is something my mind's been toying around with for the past three years. What is it? What does it mean for us? Why does Jesus begin his ministry by preaching, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near?" [Matthew 4:17]

In studying Jesus' three-fold ministry, he went throughout Galilee [a] teaching in their synagoges, [b] preaching the good news of the kingdom, and [c] healing every disease and sickness among the people. [Matthew 4:23] A plenitude of Jesus' parables begin with "The kingdom of heaven is like. . ." When the disciples ask Jesus why he speaks in parables, he replies, "The knowledge of the secrets of the kingdom of heaven has been given to you, but not to them" [Matthew 13:11]. Very enigmatic, Jesus.

When we pray as Jesus taught, we ask for God's kingdom to come [Matthew 6:10]. However, I feel a lack in our church on teachings regarding the kingdom of God. If God's kingdom came, would we even know it had arrived? Instead, I turned to the internet to quench my curiosity and found (after a long list of movie links) that the first relevant teaching on the Kingdom of God was from a Catholic Encyclopedia. In summary, this is what it describes as the kingdom of God:

The kingdom of God means, then, the ruling of God in our hearts; it means those principles which separate us off from the kingdom of the world and the devil; it means the benign sway of grace; it means the Church as that Divine institution whereby we may make sure of attaining the spirit of Christ and so win that ultimate kingdom of God where He reigns without end in "the holy city, the New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God" (Revelation 21:2).

Reading it again still makes me go "huh?" but I like how the first point says that the kingdom of God is the ruling of God in our hearts. When we make this our first priority, what will our lives look like? Jesus' Sermon on the Mount says:

So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. [Matthew 6:31-33]

I don't have any concrete conclusions on how to pursue this kingdom, but I do believe that it's worth seeking for and I do believe that I've tasted it--I experience it through the hearts of fellow brothers and sisters who gather together to do God's will.

A Church for the Financially Rich

In my Prayer Devotional Bible are weekly highlights of prayer-filled men and women throughout history. This morning, I came across a passage that highly echoes what I've been feeling about my church lately.

E.M. Bounds, a man of prayer, writes the following:

We are constantly on a stretch, if not a strain, to devise new methods, new plans, new organizations to advance the church and secure enlargement and efficiency for the gospel. This trend of the day has a tendency to lose sight of the man or sink the man in the plan or the organization. God's plan is to make much of the man, far more of him than of anything else. Men are God's method. The church is looking for better methods; God is looking for better men . . . What the church needs today is not more machinery or better, not new organizations or more and novel methods, but men whom the Holy Spirit can use--men of prayer, mighty in prayer. The Holy Spirit does not flow through methods, but through men. He does not come on machinery, but on men. He does not anoint plans, but men--men of prayer.

I've been attending this church for longer than I've lived in any house and I've seen it constantly evolve into something newer, bigger, and "better." Going away for school and experiencing campus Christianity has allowed me to return and see it more objectively than if I had always stayed. There have been many moments where I've wanted to pack up and leave for another church--one that embraced money less and God more; but I believe that there is still a place for me to serve and grow within this corporation. (And yes, this church is incorporated.)

This summer I have the privilege of teaching Sunday School with a dear childhood and university friend. [In fact, she was my cell group leader this past year!] We've both been taken aback by the materialism that consumes these Grade 7 girls. It's been an adventure trying to subvert their consumerist attitudes and show them how great our God is. Yesterday we tried teaching them to listen to God. We maintained a 3-minute silence, which was quite a struggle for some of them; however, I left with the hope that God is moving in their hearts and is raising up women of prayer, mighty in prayer.

There are so many ways our church can grow spiritually, and I'm excited to be back on the bandwagon: growing along with the rest of them.

Castle

Greetings from England!

I've finally arrived at the Queen's International Study Centre - Herstmonceux Castle in East Sussex, England. It's been a belated trip. I was going to attend the first year program had I not been accepted to Concurrent Education. It is so exciting to finally be here and smell the English air.

It's fascinating to think that I will be spending six weeks studying in the English countryside. We've already seen so many new sights at a variety of sites. For instance, today was an East Sussex tour to Brighton, Birling Gap, and Pevensey Castle. My favourite place was Brighton where we sat on the pebble beach, hunted around for toilets, and walked into some beautiful streets [above].

Classes begin tomorrow and I'm really excited! I will be taking Impressionism and Post-impressionism, British Studies, and Modern British Poetry and Drama.

trapped and smothered

I'm beginning to feel trapped and smothered by this world. How can I break free from the chains that hold me back?-- The chains of consumerism, materialism, of wanting the newest and/or nicest anything. I'm growing sick of the ideas of pluralism and tolerance. There is truth, but not everyone's truth is right. My soul is restless; it's time to move out of this shell and move on. It's like the crustaceans that grow out of their old shell and search for a larger shell to grow into. Our lives are transformed by Christ. We must live out this transformation. We must leave behind our old ways and seek new ways of living.

I've finally began to read The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical by Shane Claiborne and have been challenged by my current lifestyle. (I use the adjective "current" because I'm going to change.) One of my favourite parts is typed out below:

Back at college, I had asked one of my Bible teachers if he still believed in
miracles, like when Jesus fed thousands of people with a couple of fishes and a
handful of loaves. And I wondered if God was still into that stuff. I wanted
miracles to be normal again. He told me that we have insulated ourselves from
miracles. We no longer live with such reckless faith that we need them. There is
rarely room for the transcendent in our lives. If we get sick, we go to the
doctor. If we need food, we go to a store to buy it. We have eliminated the need
for miracles. If we had enough faith to depend on God like the lilies and the
sparrows do, we would see miracles. (48-9)

Yesterday, I was somewhat disappointed when I walked into the sanctuary to know that we had a guest speaker. I haven't been around long enough back at my home church so I always delight to hear sermons from our new pastor. However, our special guest was Brian Stiller, the President of Tyndale University College and Seminary. His powerful message was titled "Resident Aliens" and the focus passage was Hebrews 11. He really emphasized that faith is stepping out in such a way that without God's intervention, we would otherwise fail. This goes hand-in-hand with the passage I quoted above. It takes faith to see miracles happen. No faith, no miracles.

I'm ready to see some miracles.

Goodbye to the Circus

Numbers 6:24-26

"The Lord bless you and keep you;

the Lord shine his face over you and be gracious to you;

the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace."

What a blessing to have traversed three years of my undergraduate years with this amazing group of people. Each with their own talents, gifts, stories, they are people to be treasured and appreciated. Through these people, I have learned what is faith, love, hope, prayer, and more. These friendships may seem temporary, but they are eternal. Even if I never see them again, there is the confidence that we will meet again in heaven and have a party like none other. Truly, this is a Year that I have learned so much from in terms of stepping up to be a leader, to be bold in faith and confident in prayer. Am I sad to see them go? Possibly, just a little. I am ever more thankful that God brought us all together to be a part of the great work He is doing in KCCF. Grads, come back and visit us from time to time! We'd love to see how you are doing.

Ever Faithful

I love KCCF Bible studies. I love KCCF. I missed Friday fellowship. Due to various reasons, I hadn't attended Friday fellowship since the Friday before our retreat in February. So when I finally went back last night with a joyful heart and expectant soul, I was given a delicious taste of true fellowship once again.

The topic was God's faithfulness. I try to remember God's faithfulness to me by sitting down and listing all the blessings I could think of. One week ago, I tried to do just that--but found it extremely difficult. For every one good thing I could think of, many other negative things would crowd my mind. But having to sit down last night and think of all the ways God was faithful to me throughout my life, and listening to my brothers and sisters share, I was once again reminded that our feeble minds can limit God's work in our lives.

This year has been full of ups and downs. Through it all though, I have come to see that God is truly ever faithful. Even before He closes the doors on things in life, he opens up many more possibilities. For example, I had always intended to write an undergraduate thesis. There were so many questions I wanted to answer, I loved doing research and writing labs, it seemed as though a thesis would be the only way to quench my thirst for psychology. Yet throughout this year, God has been refining my passion--to love others with the love He gives me. After much reflection, I have decided not to write a thesis, but devote my time to other things. I'm so excited to see what God will place on my plate for next year. After all, my newest philosophy on my Queen's education is this: A Queen's education (or any liberal arts education) allows me to discover and refine my passion, and to equip me with the skills and knowledge to pursue that passion.

I'm really excited for what's up ahead!

re:Treat

Today I returned from a Lenten Taize Retreat at Loyola House in Guelph. My aunt invited me to join her at this retreat during the Christmas holidays. It arrived at a fairly stressful time in school, but I suppose it is during these times that retreats are most effective and important.

Taize is a different type of worship and we had a total of four liturgies and Mass on Sunday throughout the entire weekend. Taize is a very specific genre of music that takes simple phrases of Biblical truths and spiritual promises, puts it to very simple music and repeats over and over again. It definitely takes an acquired taste and I know I don't enjoy it as fully as it could be enjoyed. It is very meditative and peaceful and calming. I'm planning to check out the Taize community in France after I study in England this spring.

The retreat included bountiful opportunities for silence, meditations, prayer, and reflection. I had a really good time pondering what I was doing with my life. I've been struggling lately about whether to enter grad school for psychology or teach overseas. I've always intended to enter seminary as well, but it was only a matter of when. I will do what brings peace to my heart.

During meditation this morning, I imagined myself as a wine glass and asked God to fill me up. I expected to see liquid peace and joy and hope and love flowing into the cup as wine would fill the glass; however, what I saw surprised me. I saw the hands of God lift up the cup and into the cup flowed things like poverty, the homeless, AIDS victims, the hurting, and the like. My interpretation of this is that in order for God to fill me up, He wants me to seek those who are weak and needy and have compassion on them. One thing I have learned in the past is that God commands us to be merciful and serve those in need. In serving these people, we are blessed in return for seeing God's heart more clearly.

We are blessed to be a blessing to others, but by being a blessing to others, we are blessed all the more in return.

in His time

I took these photos on Sunday, February 24th, 2008. Returning from a heavy burdened Reading Week, I drove by the lake after dropping my friend off at Chown. I parked my car after the frozen lake and sunset caught my breath.

It was sublime. I walked out onto the lake for the very first time. It was beautiful.

I love God's sunsets and sunrises. I used to envy how God could have an endless canvas to mix beautiful colours of brilliant shades together. He makes all things beautiful.

life is stranger than fiction

Just when I thought life couldn't get any sadder, it did.

My mom called me in my residence room last night to let me know that her father, my grandfather, had passed away from a heart attack in his sleep.

It took a little time for the tears to come, but they came.

I'm very thankful that I visited my grandparents over Reading Week. When I had opened his door, he had answered gruffly, but as soon as he saw it was his only granddaughter, he became so happy. He would only speak in English, even though I replied in Chinese. When I commented on his "very good English," he smiled shyly and laughed at himself saying he wasn't very good. I laughed along, assuring him that it was very clear and understandable. It made me happy to see him so happy.

One thing my brother and I have always been concerned about is his salvation. And to this day, it remains questionable. He was baptized, yet when I asked him about it, he would tell me that he believed in this little Buddha statue he kept. And as a young girl being mean to my little brother, he would say, "Look at you Christians, you're so mean to each other." Yet as I grew older, I realized that he was watching my life and I am so thankful that God has been slowly changing me so that I would be a strong testimony of God's grace. My grandmother had told me a few times over Reading Week that my grandpa was very proud of me and kept saying that I was an exceptional person. I hope that he knew it was Christ in me through which I had changed.

After returning from Taiwan in January, he expressed a desire to return to church. Even though they hadn't gone before his death, I hold onto the hope that he had returned to God spiritually before returning physically.

I am sad, but also at peace with his passing.

The psalm below is shared in honour of him.

Psalm 90
1 Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations.
2 Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.
3 You turn men back to dust, saying, "Return to dust, O sons of men."
4 For a thousand years in your sight are like a day that has just gone by, or like a watch in the night.
5 You sweep men away in the sleep of death; they are like the new grass of the morning-
6 though in the morning it springs up new, by evening it is dry and withered.
7 We are consumed by your anger and terrified by your indignation.
8 You have set our iniquities before you, our secret sins in the light of your presence.
9 All our days pass away under your wrath; we finish our years with a moan.
10 The length of our days is seventy years— or eighty, if we have the strength; yet their span is but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away.
11 Who knows the power of your anger? For your wrath is as great as the fear that is due you.
12 Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.
13 Relent, O LORD! How long will it be? Have compassion on your servants.
14 Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.
15 Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, for as many years as we have seen trouble.
16 May your deeds be shown to your servants, your splendor to their children.
17 May the favor of the Lord our God rest upon us; establish the work of our hands for us— yes, establish the work of our hands.

it started with a chip in the windshield

Reading Week was incredibly sad.

.possibly the saddest week I've ever passed in my life thus far.

I never take my friendships lightly. From past experience, I have learned that all friendships are gifts from God--especially true friendships. Through friends, we express the goodness of God: love, joy, patience, compassion, faithfulness, &c. We feel negative emotions when we are hurt by the ones we love so dearly. We taste jealousy, anger, sadness--emotions God also admits to and allows us to experience through our relationships with others.

Through my friendships, I have experienced self-sacrificing love for people outside of my family. I have seen how deeply I can care for others, and how much others value my presence and being. So when God chooses to take these beautiful friendships and change them beyond recognition, it hurts. It makes me sad. And yes, it teaches me that I need to let go.

I have wept tears this week. Tears for myself. Tears for my friend. I usually cry when I read sad novels, yet reading the tragic Tess of the d'Urbervilles failed to bring a tear to my burdened heart.

And as I was standing in my driveway with my family waiting for my passenger, we found out the sad news that my neighbour had passed away. We had known them since the first time we moved to that house when I was 3 years old. With time, my family's acquaintance had died down, but we knew that he had married a Falun Gong activist and both were deeply involved in the Falun Gong movement. As my parents found out more from his brother, we learned that he had recently travelled to Israel. When questioned why, his brother told us that it was to explore faith and religion. My mom exclaimed that he could have just come over to ask us since we had tried bringing him to church many years ago. I stamped my foot with indignance and frustratedly said, "We should have gone over!"

What does it mean to love your neighbour as yourself?

It means that at the very least, we MUST share the grace and salvation that God has bestowed upon us.

and yet... why are our mouths kept silent?

Heart even heavier, I found out on my drive up from a passenger that a cute puppy belonging to a friend's housemate I had played with once had been killed in a car accident. I often don't fall in love with animals, but this little puppy stole my heart. I'm allergic to most dogs, yet I had so much fun playing with the little "terror," as his owners affectionately called him.

Life can be so sad sometimes.

Yeats

Tears spill, eyes overflow;
Hearts heavy with a burden for you.

Can you see what's going on?
Can you see the changes?

Who can explain this? Who understands?

Questions without answers fill in the gaps.
More gaps created, gaping holes left unfilled.

Were the days of joy and innocence meant to be short-lived?
Must all good things come to an end?

"A terrible beauty is born."



God, I admire your creativity. Billions of stories you have composed--each utterly different from another. How beautiful indeed is your perfect and creative will.

Bloor Street

My favourite street, hands down, has to be Bloor Street, Toronto. It's the most diverse street I've ever seen, as well as one of the first I used to tramp around when I was young. I used to follow my mom to work whenever I had P.D. Days and occasionally during the longer holidays. Since my mom works at Bloor and Church, Bloor Street was a familiar taste of downtown as we would shop around after she left work. It was on Bloor Street that that my mom purchased my first Tiffany & Co. necklace, as well as my first exposure to the high-end shops where the rich and the extravagant shop to furnish their houses and cover their bodies. It was also on Bloor Street where I watched my little brother demonstrate his first act of compassion towards the homeless when he begged my mom for a coin to give to a homeless man on the street. But I never ventured far on the Bloor I explored until I grew a little older.

One summer, my friend, Amanda, recommended that we try a Portuguese restaurant near Bloor St. At the restaurant, we tried an incredibly interesting dish that the waiter actually recommended that we NOT try called "Seafood Bread Soaking." It's a dish that not even all Portuguese enjoy and we weren't able to finish it since it's actually bread soaking in a dish of seafood soup. Nevertheless, it was a memorable experience and we made our way down to Bloor St. and started heading towards downtown. We were quite far removed from downtown proper and this portion of Bloor was surprisingly different from what I had known and seen. It was a far cry from the business area of Bloor and at times we even felt our safety somewhat compromised. The socioeconomic environment was much lower judging by the shops and the people. As we continued walking, we traveled from the Portuguese area and hit the Korean area. Suddenly, all the shops, restaurants, and bakeries were Korean, as well as most of the pedestrians on the street. I remember being amazed at how drastically diverse and how different each area was. Bloor Street was a microcosm of the multiculturalism of Toronto.

It's incredible how strong is the connection between a person and a place. A longer visit to Toronto isn't a complete visit without a trip down to Bloor Street. I missed my opportunity during Christmas Break and found myself longing to return quickly to Toronto so I could go down.

On Saturday, I went around town with a couple of International students from Queen's and briefly strode along Bloor, but that wasn't enough. So today, armed with my mother's MetroPass, I woke up early to accompany my mom to work. But when she got off at the Bloor-Yonge station, I switched onto the Bloor line and rode the subway almost all the way to the very end of the West side to Etobicoke. As the train I was in switched from Westbound to Eastbound, I continued sitting until I went past Bloor-Yonge again. I finally decided to choose at random a station to get off at, hoping to find a cafe to sit and journal in. I chose Castle Frank.

Upon exiting Castle Frank, I realized I was pretty far from most coffee shops. In the cold, I traversed across the bridge where thin, steel dowels line the sides to prevent any further suicides from people jumping off. Here, Bloor Street turns into Danforth Avenue. Walking along, feeling quite chilled despite the quiet sunshine, I entered into Greek town where I finally began seeing some coffee shops like Second Cup and Timothy's. Yet I found a tiny little place called Mocha Mocha where they played loud Spanish music and none of the workers were Caucasian. It felt so good to sit inside and warm up with a pot of peppermint tea and just write. It felt good to be able to sort out some of my thoughts that I've carried around since second semester started, but haven't been able to express or even understand.

I never thought I would still be searching for my future in third year. I thought I would have figured out more of where I was headed by now, but I feel more stuck than ever. Perhaps I have lost my focus. Perhaps my focus is changing. Perhaps I will temporarily leave my dreams of teaching in China and become an environmental activist. perhaps.

I think the reason why I have so much trouble deciding is because I'm so afraid that the decisions I make now will define who I become in the future. And I'm afraid to make the wrong decision. Especially if that decision leads me far, far away from Bloor Street.