the fig tree withered

signing off

2009-10-04T14:24:00.003-04:00

I am immigrating my blog over to http://mecyoj.wordpress.com.

Sometimes you can't just change a title when the body of work has already been published. It doesn't fit properly.

So... I have now begun a new blog under the new name of "one page at a time."

Enjoy!

while i'm still on the topic of titles...

2009-09-28T09:10:00.002-04:00

My byline remains unchanged.

"A story of hope and faith"

Yesterday after church, my best friend asked me what the difference was between Christians and nonbelievers. As it is her first time regularly encountering classmates and professors who do not profess Christ as Lord and Saviour, she was curious because she found them so kind and nice.

Certainly, I agreed. Having also grown up in a Christian bubble, I was also amused to find myself surprised by how "nice" anybody could be. So when she asked, "What then is the difference between Christians and non-Christians?" I could only reply, "I'm not sure. Perhaps it's the hope and faith that we have in God."

And as teachers who don't know the answer to their students' questions, I answered in like fashion: "Why don't you observe them and find out. Then let me know what you find."

As I read through Romans this morning, chapter 8 verse 24 and 25 spoke into my heart, "For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is not seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience."

Likewise, Hebrews chapter 11 verse 1 says, "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."

Our hope and faith in Jesus Christ goes against the idiom "I'll believe it when I see it." Often we ask for tangible results to prayer: concrete answers (like baby brothers) and visible proof. Yet so much of God's work is invisible. It happens slowly and it happens in our hearts.

Through the years, I have seen God work, and now is a time to wait with patience. Jesus is coming back. Our job is to wait with hope and faith until what we hope for is revealed before our eyes.

Epilogue for "the fig tree withered": a new name for a new stage

2009-09-27T23:53:00.003-04:00

The Fig Tree Withers (from Matthew 21)

¹⁸Early in the morning, as he was on his way back to the city, he was hungry.¹⁹Seeing a fig tree by the road, he went up to it but found nothing on it except leaves. Then he said to it, "May you never bear fruit again!" Immediately the tree withered.

²⁰When the disciples saw this, they were amazed. "How did the fig tree wither so quickly?" they asked.

²¹Jesus replied, "I tell you the truth, if you have faith and do not doubt, not only can you do what was done to the fig tree, but also you can say to this mountain, 'Go, throw yourself into the sea,' and it will be done. ²²If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer."

I have decided to rename my blog to reflect more of what I'm going through, but first, I'd like to write an epilogue for "the fig tree withered."

When blogs first became popular, I shunned the idea of sharing all my private thoughts and ideas on such a public forum. But there were a few blogs of note that stuck out to me. These blogs were of older Christian brothers and sisters--people I highly respected in how they lived their life and shared about God and their experiences and insights. I found that reading their blogs was spiritually refreshing and edifying. So with that purpose in mind, I began "the fig tree withered," as a testimony to how God was working in my life.

As morbid-sounding as a withering fig tree sounds, it is a sharp contrast to what Jesus is teaching His disciples. In this instance, Jesus teaches us that faith is critical to prayer. "If you have faith and do not doubt. If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer." These are powerful words. Certainly, there is so much more behind the asking process, but God teaches us how to pray and what to pray for.

When I was a young child, I really wanted a younger sibling. I would beg and beg my mom, but she was adamant about not having another child. I begged to the point of annoying my mother so much that she told me to pray about it. So with the faith of a child, I began praying. Every night before I went to bed, I would ask God to "please give me a brother or sister. Amen."

Through a year's perseverance and the tender belief of my young heart, God changed the hearts of my parents and provided a caregiver (i.e., my grandmother). I still remember the night my mom whispered to me that she was going to have another baby. I remember changing my prayers to the tune of "please protect my baby brother or baby sister and my mom. Amen."

I do believe that fig trees wither. I believe that mountains can be thrown into the sea. I believe that God has mercy on His children. I believe that prayers are still answered when we ask with genuine and pure hearts.

Praise God for withering fig trees!

Friendship Story

2009-09-17T23:20:00.003-04:00

I'm really happy to be back at Queen's for another year. Not only do I enjoy catching up with old friends, but my best friend has finally joined me to study in Kingston! Although we're in different programs, we still see each other often and do many things together.

This friend and I first began our studies together at the ripe young age of 4. Together, we went through the same school until the end of high school. We had planned to attend Queen's together for our undergraduate degrees--possibly even in the same program--but by a twist of fate (and God's work), she ended up studying at her parent's alma mater while I treaded off to Queen's on my own.

I still remember the fateful phone call during March Break of Grade 12. I was already so concerned about getting into the university program of my dreams, but when she told me that her parents finally convinced her to go to their school, I broke down and sobbed. I feared for our friendship; a precious friendship that I was afraid would drop like a glass ball and shatter. We had all heard stories of how the friends you make in university become your friends for life; and how your high school friends change beyond recognition so that when you meet each other again, you realize how incompatible you have become.

I think I started going through a period of withdrawal in the last few months of high school. It was out of fear that the final good-byes would hurt too much. Fear that saying good-bye to people we had come to love so tightly and dearly over the course of a few years would tear out a piece of our hearts.

And finally, it dawned on us! We didn't have to say good-bye to our friendship just yet. We could be friends forever if we truly wanted it. So we committed to e-mailing each other, and making sure that we would stay in touch no matter the cost. Once university began, there were three of us regularly corresponding, and the e-mails flew back and forth with a new e-mail sure to pop up in my inbox at least every two days, if not everyday.

Over the years, we have changed. We have grown up. We've gone through challenges, and we've gone through successes. We've travelled without each other, and we've suffered the same loss together. Even though I am now cynical of the term "friends forever," friendship is still a precious gift I carry carefully.

Now that we're finally at the same school (even if only for a single blessed year), it's been a pure pleasure to live a mere three blocks away from each other. It's nice to be able to call her up and see if she wants to do some of the crazy things I've always wanted to do but didn't want to do alone. It's nice to finally go places where I used to think "I wish she were here with me."

I have no regrets that we didn't spend our undergraduate years on the same campus. We've probably grown more because of it and dared to do more because of it; but God is so good to let us study together once again.

Sometimes I wonder how God views friendship. I'm sure He knows it's pretty important to the soul. God, thank you for friends: especially best friends and kindred spirits.

never imagined

2009-07-09T10:00:00.004-04:00

Never would I have imagined that I would see stars during my stay in Hong Kong, and even see a shooting star fleetingly pass by.

Never would I have imagined that I would see a group of Form 6 boys sobbing from overwhelming emotions as their teacher washed their feet.

Never would I have imagined that I would be brought to the forefront of research on spiritual development (a growing interest of mine) at an experimental camp on Cheung Chau Island.

Never would I have imagined...

But God surprises us in unexpected ways. I am humbly reminded that His ways are higher than our ways, and His thoughts higher than ours. More and more do I realize the GREATNESS of God and the littleness of me. And I am so content to fall into His arms, relax, and bask in His loving-kindness.

I spent the past 3 days serving as a First Aider and Observer at a Spiritual Development Camp for Form 6 students (around Grade 11/12) from 3 different Catholic schools in Hong Kong. The morning I left, I found out that I had been placed in a Catholic Secondary School for my teaching placements next year; so the ensuing retreat was especially meaningful in the context of where I will be in October.

There were 24 students in total, and I was placed with a group of students from an all-boys school. As a First Aider, I followed the students around the various activities, and watched transformation occur throughout the 3 days.

As soon as the students tromped off the ferry that brought them to the island, they were given a map and asked to find their way to Don Bosco Campsite. Fortunately, they were successful and the rest of the day was spent sharing stories, songs, and prayer. The next morning, we spent some time doing some morning Mindfulness exercises that encouraged focus on breathing, slowing down the heart and opening the mind. Next, we played two games--one involved cutting holes in a newspaper ramp and rolling a tennis ball over it without letting the ball fall through the holes, and the other was a chair game (ask me in person for elaboration). After lunch was Golden Time, where a girl played a bass recorder and a teacher softly spoke us to sleep. How good it was to rest in a large hall with everyone else, windows wide open facing the sea and sky, breeze flowing onto our bodies.

In the afternoon, we set out for a hike to a cemetery on the island. Visiting a cemetery in Hong Kong was one of my wishes, and I am so happy to see it fulfilled. It was interesting to see that some plots were awfully small and squished together, while others took up a large space. One point of difference from the cemeteries I've seen in Canada, England, and France, is that these gravestones only contained the names and dates, without those poetic verses usually found in the other three countries I listed. On this journey, the students were asked to look for 4 things: life among the living, life among the death, death among life, and death among death. Unfortunately, the students didn't have time to share, but these concepts were interesting to think about.

We then headed down to the main area of the island for a satisfying afternoon tea time. I even tried a skewer of frozen fruit. It was yummy! The next portion of the retreat was called "the Last Night on Earth." Students were asked to consider that night to be their last night on earth. They were led to a small Great Wall, seated on the steps, and left to contemplate this question for the next hour. It was during that time that I laid back on the stone staircase railing and saw the shooting star. It was such a beautiful time of peaceful rest.

We trekked back to the campsite under the moonlight, and then the students were once again led to the small chapel for sharing. A highlight was the night-time snack where the students were surprised with dessert soup, cup noodles, and watermelon. I don't think I'll ever forget Polly's reaction to the two boxes of cup noodles. After grabbing the students reaction, she dryly turned and said, "Oh, there's something here." Without waiting for dramatic effect, she pulled out the two boxes of cup noodles amid the students' cheers.

That night, some of the male students were found in the girls' room telling ghost stories. Although the coordinator was very upset, she shared about her feelings the next morning in such a loving way. It was bold, courageous, and humane. It made teachers come alive and granted them humanity. The students then coated an old wall with fresh, new paint before undergoing a highly emotional experience of feet washing. I participated by shuffling new buckets of water to and fro, but I felt so honoured to be part of the process. It was such a beautiful scene, and I can hardly describe the beauty of six teachers on their knees washing the feet of their students. My spirit stirred inside, and I really hope to participate when God allows.

The final afternoon was low-key, with another Golden Time and then writing encouragements on a piece of paper clipped to each person's back. We all wandered back to the ferry together and departed when we arrived at Central.

Throughout the three days, I had the opportunity to get to know some very incredible people, listen to the opinions, and share our thoughts and observations. I am impressed at how God connects people together in the most interesting ways, and I've grown and laughed lots in these past days.

I went into the camp knowing only one person, and left with many new friends; faithful brothers and sisters pursuing God's heart for His next generation. What a blessing indeed.

God actually

2009-07-06T03:42:00.007-04:00

I've started to feel a bit of stress about my upcoming teaching trip because of last-minute requests and general underpreparedness. I've also felt alone because I haven't been able to attend the team meetings back in Richmond Hill and bond with the team. Although I leave on Saturday, I will be putting my first aid training and certifications to use as a First Aider on a 3-day camp for Catholic youth. I'm looking forward to it, but worries are beginning to creep in as time is shooting past me.

Today is my father's birthday, but due to my poor scheduling, I couldn't spend it with him. Instead, he went off to Ocean Park with his mom, while I am stuck in the flat prepping what I should have done earlier. Mid-way through the day, I went for a work-out to clear my mind. During my work-out, I reflected on a sermon preached at Island ECC yesterday about balancing truth and love in our walk (based on 2 John). It was an excellent sermon and I am still thinking about which side I fall on. Not only do we demonstrate truth and love in our lives, but we also receive the same from God. Sometimes I feel that I give more love than I do truth, but focus my attention and mind on God's truths, more than God's love. I know that I am feeling drained because I haven't been open to receiving God's love--something I need to remind myself of. I prayed that God would once again pour out His love on me, and remind me of His bountiful mercies and love that He lavishes on His children.

After my work-out, I ate a late lunch at a famous wonton noodle shop by Lee Theater Place. These wonton noodle shops are generally small, but packed with customers. The tables are small; strangers are seated next to or across from each other. I was seated at a tiny table with a lady across from me. As I ate my bowl of wonton noodles, I contemplated beginning a conversation with her, but I didn't know where to start. Half-way through, being inspired by a reporter friend who strikes up conversations with random strangers and listens with rapt attention, I commented on how delicious the noodles were. The lady quickly continued the conversation and I found out that she was retired and learning all sorts of things--like Latin dance and classical Chinese singing. She told me that although she was older and had less disposable income, she was filled with more joy. When I told her that I was going to China, she told me about how she had spent 3 weeks backpacking through with 3 other friends when she was younger. As I was getting ready to leave, she poured out many kind words of blessing and ended with "God bless you." In that moment, I felt so filled and content on love. God had answered my prayer--even through a stranger whom I probably will never meet again.

It reminded me of a time last year when I had been struggling in my faith to believe. I was traveling on my own through the French countryside, and had two hours to spend at a small town between trains. I encountered an elderly American lady who was on a river cruise, but also walking through the same town. Within minutes, she poured out her life story of how God transformed her son committed a crime, but met Jesus in prison and Jesus transformed his life. She was so certain about God and also blessed me as we said farewell.

To me, these women are angels. I most probably won't encounter them again, but in those moments of brief fellowship, I have been reminded that God is actually all around.

A Walk to Remember

2009-07-04T11:09:00.001-04:00

A large part of why I'm enjoying Hong Kong so much more this time around is because I've had the opportunity to do things I like doing. I've spurned the shopping scene for more sightseeing, reading, writing, and best of all--hiking!

I made it quite clear to my dad that I wanted to go hiking when I went to Hong Kong for my 3-week stay, and wondrously, he still has good friends from primary and middle school who hike regularly and were willing to bring us along. We've gone three times, and although the mountains are not spectacularly high, it's been awfully nice to be in the woods again.

It's only been in the past few weeks that I found out my dad loves to hike. He hiked a lot as a student in Hong Kong, with the friends who still hike, but he is too lazy to travel far for hiking in Canada. It's interesting to learn that my hiking heritage doesn't only come from my aunt.

My aunt in Canada is the one I usually think of when I think of hiking. I always experience a burst of pride when I tell people she's climbed the Himalayas. When I was younger, I hated walking. Quite embarrassingly, even when I was seven, my parents would still push me around in the stroller, or if I got tired walking, I would turn around and ask them to pick me up. Yet when I was 16 years old and was given the opportunity to participate on an Outward Bound trip, my aunt insisted that I choose mountaineering, even though I really wanted to canoe and portage.

It was on that mountaineering trip in British Columbia that I fell in love with walking and hiking. I loved being able to propel myself up mountains, scree down hills, and scale rock faces with my hands and feet. I realized that limits could be pushed: I experienced a colder cold (being awoken by the cold at 2am on top of a summit, opening my eyes, and seeing stars upon stars in the Milky Way Galaxy) and expanded my definition of tired (hiking 6-8 km daily with a 50lbs pack, and then having to set up the tents and cook dinner, for 2 weeks straight--I never appreciated sleep so much).

Today was another of those definition expansions. My dad's primary school friend brought us to Sai Gong. On the bus ride to the starting point, I felt physically horrible--most probably due to the strong Milk Tea I had drank at a famous milk tea place in Central. My stomach quaked, my heart beat funny, and my head spun. But I really wanted to hike.

Once we reached the starting point, I vomited on the side of the road. Part of me wanted to go back to our place in Causeway Bay and sleep it off, but something inside me told me that the hike would cure me.

And it did.

Unfortunately, about half an hour into the hike, it began to rain. We pulled out our ponchos, and as the rain got worse, we stood to the side to wait for it to pass. By then, the rain was seeping into my shoes and the bottom of my pants were soaked. Even so, a group of hikers passed us, drenched by the rain. After 10 minutes of standing, we had to make a critical decision: do we continue in the rain or do we head back down to the bus?

We decided to continue. The hardest point was the next step. It meant that I would have to leave my safe haven (i.e., standing on a small rock that prevented my feet from smooshing into the mud). Watching my dad go first, I followed suit: stepping firmly into the mud, rain water splashing onto my pants, and water flooding my shoe through the upper mesh. As we tromped through the mud, thoughts of feeling sick flew out of my mind. I learned to enjoy the experience of sloshing through the muddy path and feeling the water squeeze between my toes.

This hike was probably the most uncomfortable hike I've ever been on, but it was certainly memorable. My definition of discomfort has been pushed, and God has shown me mercy in the process.

O Hong Kong

2009-06-30T21:07:00.004-04:00

The more time I spend in Hong Kong, the more I am beginning to like it.

At first glace, it's easy for me to disdain the lifestyle here. It's heavily consumeristic and materialistic, the advertisements create an overstimulation of the visual sense, while the sounds and noise are hardly a pleasant cacophony. Yet there are so many things to appreciate about this city.

My dad has been bringing me around to many places, and having someone accompany me to the places I want to visit has been delightful (and safer too!). On Sunday, my dad's middle school friend took us hiking up the dragon's back (Lung Chek). It was a beautiful day for a hike--not too sunny, and with a cool breeze. Butterflies of all species and colours flittered past, and it was nice to admire the city from afar. Sometimes it's easier to be surrounded by nature and see how beautiful the city is, than to be in the city and notice its beauty.

Yesterday, we finally visited Tai O on Lantau Island: a fishing village I had hoped to visit since the first day I arrived. It was definitely food for the amateur photographer, and I enjoyed it very much, apart from the mosquito-bitten calves and sunburnt arms I left with. The sky was blue for once, and the way of life was so different. My dad starts conversations with random people (I get it from him), and we had the chance to hear life stories from two very elderly residents.

When I was younger, I used to pity the poor who continued to use old appliances and lived in one-room houses, but now that I'm a bit older, I'm beginning to appreciate the simple lifestyles. The old lady we spoke to told us that her children and grandchildren would keep asking her to live with them in the city, but she would refuse because she had lived here for the 50 years of her marriage and she belonged here. As an inspiring Urbana speaker once said, "Where you settle is where you will die." I better settle carefully.

Another thing I appreciate about the Hong Kong people is their proactivism. July 1st not only marks Canada Day, but also handover day when Hong Kong was released from British colony rule back to China. Hong Kong is a Special Administrative Region (SAR), which means that it is the only democratic area inside a communist country. The citizens here value their democracy so much because it is vulnerable. Democracy is fragile. So on this public holiday, there are no less than 7 marches and demonstrations, one of which I may take part in. There is a public spirit that docile Canadians seem to lack--simply because it seems superfluous in a democratic country. I like Hong Kong.

faithful

2009-06-26T11:19:00.004-04:00

Since I arrived in Hong Kong again, I started to feel drained of joy. I could visibly notice my face growing blanker and my gaze hardening. I cannot blame Hong Kong for this change, although I'm sure it contributed. I realized that the physical change only reflected a hardness of my own heart.

Being a traveller in a foreign city meant that I had to be protective of myself. I had been warned countless times to watch my bag and my wallet and my purse--to the point where I was on the verge of becoming paranoid. Yes, I do need to be careful, but I no longer viewed people with the same compassion as I would if I had felt more secure.

I realized that I was slowly becoming more and more self-centred. I would think about myself more, others less, and God only when I opened my Bible. I had lost focus.

A wise friend once mentioned how she found it more challenging to become like Jesus than to serve Him. I agree with her. Becoming like Jesus requires transformation, and transformation can hurt. Serving God is an outcome of that transformation.

Well, after realizing my despicably prideful heart, I began praying for mercy and trusting my prayer partners to be praying for me too. Within a day, God has provided so much for me.

For the past week, I have woken up early to go for a run on the inner Ambulance Track of the Happy Valley Racecourse. Despite threatening stormclouds on many occasions, today was the first day I found myself caught in the rain. Today was also the last day that I would be living in Happy Valley until August. During my jog, I talked to God about my concerns and uncertainties, and told Him I wanted to trust Him with the different aspects of my life. The rain began as I was heading back to the tunnel that goes under the racetrack, but as soon as I came up from the tunnel, I looked into the rare piece of visible sky and saw the most beautiful stretch of rainbow. I was shocked still in my steps and remained still to admire it until it passed. Rainbows aren't usually particularly significant in my life, but after my prayer that morning, the rainbow suddenly took on an unusual amount of significance today.

Later in the day, my dad brought me to visit some relatives who are serving in ministry in Hong Kong. We aren't particularly close, and we hadn't met since I was 13 years old, but I was so blessed to see how my aunt had been called from her post as a kindergarten principal to become a pastor of a church that serves to disciple the poor. I also had a great conversation with her daughter who is serving in a full-time ministry in Hong Kong. Since my circle of connection in Hong Kong is small, it has been hard to find people similar to myself. Yet in her, I found someone that I could connect with and share our passions together. Afterward, I attended a talk on the spiritual development of children. It was targeted to the parents of their church, but my aunt knew of my interest in education and invited me to participate. The talk was simple, but meaningful, and I enjoyed the question-and-answer time the most because I could hear the concerns of these parents. I am so inspired for their desire to have their children come to know God and grow in Him. These parents are not well-educated and serve in jobs not well-considered by society, but they want a better future for their children and try hard to love them and teach them, which includes the heritage of faith.

Although I still have much to learn and much to confess and much to grow, I have been changed by how powerful and faithful God is to His children. As friends have reminded me, "God is faithful even when we are not faithful." (ref. 2 Timothy 2:13) Please say a prayer for me when you remember!

Goodbye, my friend

2009-04-16T18:48:00.002-04:00

Alas, the time for bittersweet good-byes has come.

I want to cry, but the tears only wet my eyes without sliding down my cheeks. There's a quiet sadness, a hidden sadness, that's stored so deep down inside that it will take time for purging. Maybe writing it out will help.

It's been strange saying good-byes because I will still be here next year, yet my closest '09 friends are graduating and moving on to the next chapter of their lives.

There have been a few "last suppers" lately. A memorable one was with Jenny and Flora. We planned to eat at Lotus Heart Blossoms, only to find out they were taking an extended Easter break. Next, we tried Pan Chancho, only to read that the cafe closed at 4pm. Then, we walked to Mexicali Rosa's to find that it was temporarily closed for some unknown reason. Finally, we backtracked to the Kingston Brew Pub and had a very long dinner, talking about things that friends talk about. This has been a meaningful friendship thus far, although it has only spanned a brief two years since we first all came together. Sometimes you meet people and you just click. It doesn't take much effort to adjust to one another and befriend one another. Sometimes you realize your initial reactions to the person was totally off--they're probably friendlier than they look.

Tonight I ate at Leonard Cafeteria with two of my 2nd year housemates--the only housemates I've ever had during my B.A. years. They were my Queen's family. There's Queen's friends, and then there's Queen's family--the people who root for you and hear you out and see how messy and disorganized you really are, without judging you for the worse. One has finished school for good, while another is going away for more. And I... I am still here.

There's some sort of feeling--kinda like being left behind. Yet I'm really glad to be here for another year. My ministry here is not over yet. God is moving on our campus in huge ways and bringing people from different backgrounds and groups together. I still have a lot of hope and have seen God bring revival. It happens one person at a time, when God breathes into His beloved child and draws them up to life again. People are being transformed daily, and God is here.

Next year is going to be exciting. My best friend is coming! I'm living in a house again! I won't have any exams to write! God is good.

Easter Sunday

2009-04-12T20:31:00.005-04:00

I woke up early to meet two friends and catch the Easter sunrise.

We went out to the pier with our cameras. The sky was bright already, but the sun was still behind the curtain of earth. In a few minutes, the sun poked its bald head over the horizon and slowly tugged into the sky.

I was surprised to see how the sun made the sky appear dusty rose, especially since it was pretty bright on its own. But the sun overpowered the other light in the sky with its own intense luminosity.

Throughout this year, a thought has been playing through my head about the sun and the Son. In the English language, is it an accident that Jesus Christ is referred to as the Son, and the brightest source of energy and light is also called the sun? Saying those two words aloud, I cannot hear a difference.

And I've been learning this all-year long: the Son brights me joy, it brings light upon everything. In contrast to what is already bright, it outshines the rest. There is no other source of energy quite like it. When it is cloudy, I feel down in my soul; when it is sunny, I feel God's smile on me.

Watching the Son rise this morning was a pulchritudinous (a big word for "beautiful") moment.

We serve a risen Saviour! He is RISEN indeed! And all that He demands of us is our love and our life. What could be simpler?

Exams

2009-04-11T21:12:00.002-04:00

I've developed a taste for writing exams. It is a cathartic release of everything I've learned and accumulated over the past four or eight months and allows me to leave feeling a sense of accomplishment. (Don't ask about the grades. Numbers don't matter).

Truly, the value of some things are appreciated only when they've been taken away. Last December, I only had one sit-down exam, which was so short I spent a total of an hour and a half in the exam room during the entire exam season. I felt cheated.

I just finished writing the last English exam I'll ever write on this side of the desk, and I think I'll miss it. When else will I get to read stories and be tested on how much I remember? Stories stick. It's easy to remember stories because they leave an emotional thumbprint on your mind. I'm really glad to have selected Canadian Short Stories as my final English course because I've developed such a deep admiration for our Canadian writers. There's something I connect to--perhaps it's the immigrant narrative, the sense of place or lack thereof; the recognition of landscape, and camping, and other Canadian-esque things.

I'm just happy to know there's something in Canada to be proud of: We produce good short stories.

Thursday April 9

2009-04-09T17:34:00.004-04:00

What I have written below was written as a personal journal entry, but a friend bumped into me while I was writing and encouraged me to post it. After all, we write for an audience to read. I have made some omissions to protect privacy, but here are some of my raw thoughts (almost) uncensored.

Today has been one of those days that must be recorded before it goes down in history. It is a day where everything is pregnant with meaning: each encounter is fore-ordained, each thought is predestined.

I woke up before 7:30am, despite not having set my alarm clock the night before. I woke up knowing that today would be the day that my thesis is handed in. I had some final edits to make and I had to see what my thesis supervisor had sent me the night before. He made some very informative suggestions and additions, and I brought my laptop to Ban Righ to work. Over breakfast, I realized that something I had to clarify came from a print journal in the library, so I headed over to Stauffer to finalize my edits. I had forgotten to bring a pen or pencil as I had intended to return home after breakfast, but a kind, fellow student lent his to me. I stayed until lunch, when I returned to Ban Righ and could only feed upon a salad.

I ate with some frosh girls in my buildings. One of them mentioned that I knew a lot of people, and I didn’t deny it. I’ve built up a huge web of connection over the years. I had an enjoyable time eating with them, and found out that I can attend the BFA graduates’ art exhibit from April 20th to 25th. What a pleasant surprise to know because it was my last wish to visit the studio of Ontario Hall before I graduated, and now it appears that I can! What a pleasure.

At 1:30pm, I went to visit my supervisor, but he wasn’t in from lunch yet. I headed over to Dupuis 217 where my English 284 study session was being held. I was early, so I took a look at my essay. I received another 78%. Therefore, I have never been able to break beyond an 80% on an English essay at Queen’s. I understand. However, one of the comments my TA made was very encouraging: “You are a very good writer and a fine critic of literature. All the best for the future.” My supervisor also recently told me that I am a good writer. I feel very happy, because becoming a good writer was something I always wanted to attain before I graduated.

At 2:30pm, I swung by my supervisor's office and he OK’d my final draft for the thesis. I went home to print it out. While I was home, I realized that my stapler wasn’t large enough to contain all 35 pages, so I tried calling the Department of Psychology to see if I could use their stapler. I only reached answering machines because everyone had left early for the long weekend. But while I was on the website, which has since changed after 3 years of being “in the process of updating,” I read from the main page that the work of the first graduate student I volunteered for has since been published and the professor from the lab was quoted in the article. It’s really cool to see that the volunteer work I did has translated into someone’s success. When I entered Craine Hall, I bumped into another graduate student I had met in the same lab, who has since transferred to the lab where I volunteered in the year after. Oh how I love the Department of Psychology. I really don’t know where I belong next, but it seems like things are wrapping up and closing down.

After I submitted my thesis, I hurried back to the English study session that I had left to run my thesis errands. Upon leaving Dupuis for a second time, I caught a glimpse of a woman with long, red hair, and a man with a baby in a baby carrier. She looked awfully familiar, but since they were walking ahead of me, I didn’t want to run up to them only to find out they were strangers. Fortunately, they stopped before Union St. and I had time to catch up. I said to their backs, “Excuse me, Ma’am. Were you in my Canadian history class last semester?” She was indeed the same woman and I was introduced to baby Nora. I said, “Congratulations, she’s beautiful.” She told me that the baby arrived a day and a half after our Canadian history final exam, and I smiled and told her that I remembered that she had wished on the first day of class for the baby to come after our course had finished. How wonderful.

Right now I see two of my friends outside. It makes me happy because I know their friendship has been rocky. They look happy. Friendships heal.

They are now sitting next to me. Talking about exams and loving April.

Even though I have mostly attained my undergraduate goals of becoming an effective writer and a critical thinker, I still have trouble in the global structuring of my ideas. That is something I will go to graduate school and work on.

Annus Mirabilis

2009-03-10T09:18:00.003-04:00

I've been blown away by the number of blessings God has flooded upon me in the past week and a bit. From the little things (like finding an empty slot on the timesheet of the always-packed treadmills right when I needed it) to the big things, God has been so present in all aspects of my life.

As I was reading the new report from Patrick Deane (VP Academic) on Curriculum Renewal, I found out that the year the '09s entered university was probably the best time to receive a quality education. In his report, Deane writes, "The year 2005 increasingly seems to have been a kind of annus mirabilis for higher education in Ontario, and Reaching Higher the product of one of those rare and fleeting moments when enlightened government finds itself in possession of the resources appropriate to undertake positive change."

To look back from our current standpoint of budget cuts and department down-sizing, I can see how God has truly blessed me to be a student during the good times. Even though it will be challenging for new graduates to find jobs at this time, it's comforting to know that our education was the best Queen's could offer in these recent years.

On another note: Maybe I'm just trying to be optimistic about graduating. I'm still feeling awfully ambivalent about it.

Best There Is (BTI)

2009-02-20T23:33:00.003-05:00

When I chose to do my placement at a Business and Technical Institute (BTI), little did I know that I would be stepping into one of the saddest schools in the TDSB. I was really surprised on my first day to find out that this school was slotted for closure at the end of the year, so staff morale was really low and student enrollment had been "declining" for the past few years. I almost cried after my first day because things seemed so desperate. It doesn't make sense to me that on one hand, we have a request for more trained technicians and applied tradesworkers, but on the other hand, TDSB is closing all of the high schools that provide opportunities for students to pursue these careers.

On the first day, I was feeling pretty nervous about meeting my host teacher. She had a long, Jewish last name, so I was imagining her out to be a tall, imposing woman with big hair (Karen Hitchcock-esque for my fellow alma mater mates). Fortunately, the educational assistant gave me the low-down on her before she came and told me that she was an Asian Jew (Chinese woman converts to marry Jewish man) and that she was crazy. After 4 days with her, I can see why people (including herself) call her crazy, but she's definitely a brilliant woman who cares deeply for her students. Watching her is like watching a sitcom--she's always making people laugh! I've learned a lot from her in the past few days, but I get the feeling that she's a treasure trove of which I've only scratched the surface.

Since the school is in decline, the class sizes are small. Small as in 2-13 students. It's been quite a change from the 30+ students and I realize the huge effect class sizes have on teaching quality. It can't be too small, but having less students definitely allows for more follow-up. Marking is so much lighter too!

What I loved most about the placement were the students. My host teacher was fantastic at commanding respect from them: compassionate toughness, she called it. These students have been sent to this school because they couldn't survive in the "collegiates." They struggle with learning disabilities, poor attendance due to late nights working/general laziness, hungry stomachs--stuff I'd never seen in my high school or the other schools I've been to. I felt that I was filled with love for each student I saw--another new phenomena I didn't experience in other schools. They weren't jostling for marks in order to get into university; they were showing up in class because they had to get their high school diplomas in order to get basic level jobs (like flipping burgers at McDonald's or garbage collecting).

The most inspiring end to my week was the final period when 3 former students separately came back to visit the school. One of them sat in with the class, who was spending the period working in the library, and shared about how he "did the crime, did the time" and realized he had to do something about it. He is now planning to open up his own fine dining restaurant. It was such an inspiration to see how the teachers at this school really make an impact on these students lives. It really isn't about teaching a subject, but using the subject to teach students about life and responsibility.

I'm looking forward to my return in April. If I can teach these students, I think I'm set. If I can't... I still have my B.Ed. year to learn.

sick and grateful

2009-02-16T07:26:00.002-05:00

I haven't left my house since I first stepped in after my dad picked me up from the bus station at Scarborough Town Centre. That's over 60 hours spent in one enclosed location--it's gotta be my record since infancy.

On Friday, I fell horribly ill with a virus that wracked my body so painfully that I felt like crawling out of my skin and my stomach kept churning over and over and over. Graciously, some kind friends gave me some Gravol and Pepto-Bismol to tide me over the bus ride until I returned home. I slept through most of the bus ride, and even ended it with a conversation with a stranger-girl that I had sat beside on the bus last semester, chatting about her interests in evolutionary biology.

Being sick at home has been awesome. Mind you, I didn't like it when my head spun around, and nothing seemed appetizing, but since my mom and brother are also sick, most of us have spent all these time at home being sick together. It's been my dad's turn to shine as caregiver, preparing soup after soup and pot of congee after pot of congee. I'm so blessed he's a great cook! I've also had a lot of time to watch many movies with my brother. I usually have a lot of difficulty sitting still to watch movies on my own, but it's always nice to share it with someone else.

The most wonderful part of this weekend was just the simple conversations I had with family. I tend to lose out on sleep more often when I come home because I stay up late to talk to my parents and I wake up earlier to keep talking to them. They are my best listening ear, wisest guidance, and responsible protectors. In one of my conversations with my dad, who borderlines on being boastful but is quite accurate about himself, I said that he, who once said his gift was in understanding people, did not quite understand me or else he would let me do what I felt called to do. He told me he now understood after some enlightenment from my mom, and that if I truly wanted to pursue a missionary career-- I would be free to do so! What a blessed surprise!

It's strange that the timing should happen now--when my future is more blank in my mind than ever. I am not concerned though. I know my next step, and I will take it in faith.

^{From James 5:
14}Is any one of you sick? He should call the elders of the church to pray over him and anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord. ¹⁵And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up. If he has sinned, he will be forgiven. ¹⁶Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.

Happy Family Day!

2009-02-09T22:26:00.003-05:00

In the midst of preparing for my test, midterm, and essay, all of which are due this week, I took some time to hang out with Brother Lawrence (via his book The Practice of the Presence of God). I've been going through it slowly in order to maximize digestive value, but here are some of his final thoughts, written a week before he died.

Let all our employment be to know God; the more one knows Him, the
more one desires to know Him. And as knowledge is commonly the measure of love,
the deeper and more extensive our knowledge shall be, the greater will be our
love; and if our love of God were great, we should love Him equally in pains
and pleasures.

Let us not content ourselves with loving God for the mere sensible favors,
how elevated soever, which He has done or may do us. Such favors, though never
so great, cannot bring us so near to Him as faith does in one simple act. Let us
seek Him often by faith. He is within us; seek Him not elsewhere.

Sometimes university has frustrated me in that I spend so much time getting to "know" other subjects, without having the same opportunity to "know" God. There have been some courses that have magnified God's glory and majesty in His creation and order, but I'll have to look a bit harder to find God through my Psych of Crime notes for tomorrow's midterm.

Yesterday's Mouse

2008-11-25T18:53:00.002-05:00

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

2008-11-20T21:52:00.003-05:00

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

2008-11-15T21:54:00.004-05:00

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

2008-11-12T21:27:00.003-05:00

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

2008-11-05T17:57:00.003-05:00

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)

2008-10-28T20:22:00.002-04:00

Es schneit!

Winter ist gekommen.

Activist? Who, me?

2008-10-26T21:16:00.002-04:00

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

2008-10-22T09:28:00.002-04:00

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

2008-10-16T17:14:00.003-04:00

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

2008-10-14T21:21:00.004-04:00

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

2008-10-14T16:16:00.005-04:00

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

2008-10-06T17:52:00.002-04:00

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

2008-09-09T19:28:00.002-04:00

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

2008-07-15T09:47:00.002-04:00

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

2008-07-14T08:23:00.003-04:00

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

2008-05-04T16:54:00.003-04:00

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

2008-04-14T21:34:00.003-04:00

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

2008-04-05T08:09:00.003-04:00

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

2008-03-29T09:33:00.002-04:00

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

2008-03-16T21:22:00.003-04:00

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

2008-02-28T23:51:00.004-05:00

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

2008-02-28T09:07:00.002-05:00

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

2008-02-24T19:42:00.007-05:00

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

2008-02-22T10:29:00.002-05:00

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

2008-02-20T19:50:00.002-05:00

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.

alone

2007-12-22T18:09:00.000-05:00

For the first time in a long time, I'm finally alone. Not just physically alone, but also responsibility alone (i.e., nobody to be responsible for or have to tend to). At my family home, I don't have to stay on my toes and be ready at any moment to be "Available, Visible, and Approachable."

It kind of feels good.

I love being a Don. This year has been so good. I definitely struggled a lot at the very beginning. I was very uncertain about what I should do and if what I was doing was right. I remember being so frustrated and upset, even questioning if this was God's will for me or if I had followed the wrong path. It was a scary time, not knowing if I had made a terrible mistake. Blessedly, I had a few people who continued to encourage me and surely those encouragements have made such a difference in my experience.

After four months, I can probably say each consecutive year of undergrad has topped the previous year. I love West Campus, I love the Don Team, and most of all, I love my Angus girls. There's definitely so much more that I can do, and that I aim to do; but I have been so blessed through these girls. I've learned so much about myself and stretching myself, only to realize that I can stretch even further. And in the times of frustration, there's been incredible support-even from within the house.

I can see God's love working in me. I can feel God's presence and guidance. I know that He is working and that He will continue His good work in the next few months to come.

I'll enjoy my alone time, even if I do miss being AVA for the moment.

construction has finally come to haunt West Campus

2007-12-05T04:14:00.001-05:00

no. no. no.

I simply will not allow it.

Construction across from West Campus has begun: at 2:30am in the morning!

If there's nothing that bugs me more, it's being woken up in the middle of the night and kept awake throughout the night. At first, it was just the annoying hum of an engine. By the time of this writing, it has escalated to drilling. I wonder if it's keeping my residents up.

on a more positive note, something that made me smile yesterday was seeing that the union st. and university avenue intersection has finally opened up! i never complained about it, but i'm super glad that it's finally open. it will definitely make life (driving to kccf and humphrey for psych) much easier.

and gah! this drilling just won't stop!

Naturally curious, I went out to investigate. Here are the fruits of my labour:

Apparently, Union St. has been cut off from Sir John A. MacDonald. I guess this means it will only be a temporary construction because it's taking place in the street. If so, I guess I won't be as upset. And I understand, it would be much harder to do this during the day.

Nevertheless, my body is croaking for more sleep and I guess I will find some way to rest up before a long day of report writing dawns.

stubborn revelations

2007-12-04T00:11:00.000-05:00

This past weekend was incredible. Going home after two weeks of pure academia was like essence of heaven.

And still, I learned this weekend. I learned about things I had been too stubborn to admit for a long time.

For one, I finally admitted to myself that I love my best friend enough that when she hurts me (even unintentionally), it can make me feel unloved by the entire world. I guess I never knew how deep friendship went. I wouldn't have thought that this connection went so deeply, but I guess it did. At the same time, I guess I wasn't willing to admit that one single person could have such a strong influence on my emotional self. Yet friendships are just like other relationships; the more they matter, the more they affect your life. And in the end, I am more the blessed for being in this friendship after all is said and done.

And secondly, I finally admitted to myself the influence of Across U-hub on my development as a young person. For the longest time, I'd always look to the other aspects of growing up such as lessons, good parents, good teachers, good school, extracurriculars, and never once think about the superfluous-seeming activities I participated in at Across U-hub. The camps were just places to go because Mom and Dad said they were good, and being the obedient daughter, I went. Going to activities just happened because Dad told me to go and would bring me with him. This summer, an internship there just seemed like a convenient way to get a summer job because it seemed to fall into my lap. I think I just took everything for granted.

Well, after preparing for the fundraising dinner and what I would say to encourage people to a) donate money and b) share in the vision of Across U-hub, I realized what a huge impact it has had on my life. Slowly, but surely, these values have taken hold in me and have become a part of my identity. Values such as creative living, dream chasing, passion holding, and so much more I cannot yet express have been instilled into me through the different programs I attended over the years. I'm beginning to see the good that has come out of my time spent at and with Across U-hub and its incredibly amazing people. Now, I'd like to spend more time there by my own accord, and not of my well-meaning parents or other people's expectations of me.

These two revelations have been liberating. As hard as it is to admit to foolishness and narrow-mindedness, understanding that I have been both allows me to embrace an even deeper friendship with my best friend and an even more meaningful relationship with Across U-hub. I feel as though God has ripped blinders off of my heart to reveal what good He has in store for me. And I trust it will only get better.

The Kite Runner

2007-11-19T10:24:00.000-05:00

Very rarely does a book capture my heart and imagination so much that I can't put it down even to sleep. So as I pulled out a book to read before falling asleep last night, I was quickly drawn into the story and knew that I would have to stay awake to finish it. It was a struggle--wanting to get through the story quickly so I could know what happened and go to bed, yet also wanting to savour Khaled Hosseini's simple, but profound diction and plot line. He really grasped the English language, and was successful at manipulating words to speak mountains of meaning.

At a few points, the story drew tears from my eyes when the main character would experience deep regret, or grief, or loss. It was a story about childhood friendship, kinship, and misunderstandings made to be understood. The character went from being weak and defeatable to strong and courageous. And it was knowledge that gave him courage: Knowledge of the truth and of the past. Following his journey throughout the years and through the places, Kabul, Afghanistan, to Fremont, California, and back to Pakistan and Kabul before finally going to the United States, I realized how privileged I am to be raised in a country that is at peace.

Sometimes I wonder if we find it hard to understand what real peace is because we have never experienced war. At times I think I have grasped at it, but what does it really mean to know the peace the passeth all understanding?

Reading this book has changed my life. It is one that will keep me thinking for a while longer.

p.s. In Grade 3, I never would have imagined writing book reports for pleasure. And whilst this is one that could be much improved, I finally understand why we learned to write book reports back in third grade--it helps us understand the writing and the author and his motivations. Most importantly, it allows books to change our lives.

Remembrance Day

2007-11-11T19:49:00.000-05:00

I never understood Remembrance Day fully. I knew there were men and women who had bravely fought for our country--many who had sacrificed their lives on earth, but for those remaining, their personalities due to post-traumatic stress disorders and their healthy, functional bodies. I always held respect for them, but it never touched me deeply. After all, I was only an immigrant, one who had come to Canada because it was already free.

This summer, I did a lot of research on Chinese Canadian history and discovered that the Chinese who fought in World War II, for a country that hardly accepted them and did not allow them to vote or become citizens, opened up the ground for Chinese people to be considered citizens. Within Chinese communities in Canada, the debate of whether to fight or not was hotly contested. On one side, there were those who claimed that since Canada did not accept them as citizens, why should they fight for this country? The other side answered, "If we do not fight, then we will never be accepted as Canadians."

For the Chinese Canadians who entered the war to give future Chinese Canadians a voice and the right to vote, I thank you for your sacrifices. May your memories be honoured and your courage never forgotten in the hearts of today's Chinese Canadians.

Baking Woes

2007-10-21T23:26:00.000-04:00

I always seem to botch my baking in residence. The first time I baked for my Angus girls, my cookies were hard-as-rock because I didn't realize that the oven was 25-50 degrees hotter than marked and half of my cake came out of the pan because it wasn't greased well-enough. The second time I baked a cake with a silicone pan (that I specifically asked my mom to bring up for me) because I knew the cake would definitely come out of the pan. But this time, I totally forgot to grease it at all--therefore only half of my cake came out again. Today as I was baking for "Desserts with the Don," I was putting the biscotti back in the oven again after cutting it and I didn't put it in far enough before letting go. So in the presence of two residents who had stopped to say hi, the entire tray of half-baked biscotti flipped and all my biscotti ended up at the bottom of the oven. It was a dark moment, but my residents figured the oven was clean so we picked up the pieces, put it back on the baking sheet and continued baking it. And it turned out just fine!

P.S. My apple pie I also baked today turned out to be perfect, but maybe that's because I couldn't taste it due to a stuffy nose. Here's my not-so-secret recipe: The Perfect Apple Pie

Vacation

2007-10-11T23:13:00.000-04:00

I'm going to Florida for Christmas break!!!

I'm so excited!

Mickey Mouse... here I come!

disconnect

2007-09-21T10:21:00.000-04:00

I think that I am a thinker because I cannot feel that I am a feeler.

Even when I'm going through tough emotional times, I try to think my way through it, or out of it. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. But it frustrates me when I would like to think my way out of my feelings and it doesn't work. I can analyze all I want about why I feel sad or why I feel frustrated, but if I don't connect with my feelings, it is so difficult to move beyond my thoughts.

Sometimes being so analytical makes it difficult for me to sympathize. I try to think of the right words to say or the right things to do, but what is right when you can't even feel a hint of what the other person is feeling?

Maybe I'm just sailing through some rough waters right now and feeling like I'll either sink or swim.

I hope . . . that the Joy of the Lord would be my Strength.

Lost and Found

2007-09-17T08:32:00.000-04:00

Over these few years, I have lost some particularly valuable items, including a geometric compass my dad had since he was in high school, a 1.0GB photo memory card with photos from my China trip still on it, and a pair of diamond earrings my best friends bought me for my 16th birthday. These are lost items that I do feel badly about, not to mention all the little things that I've misplaced here or there.

Sometimes I find them again, sometimes they're lost forever. But as I was thinking yesterday, I realized that the most important things in life can never be lost - things like family, best friends, love, respect, and hope. These have an infinite value. This thought soothed my troubled heart and I realized I really cannot hold too tightly to my material treasures as they can disappear at any chosen moment.

Yet the joy of finding something that was once lost is such an exciting moment. After a year of "searching" for my lost memory card, I stumbled upon it while packing for my 3rd year of school. And the diamond earrings, I reached into the pocket of my jacket yesterday and my fingers fumbled around some tiny, hard, foreign object. I pulled it out to study, and realized it was the diamond earrings that my best friends had given me 4 years ago! What a surprise for me, as I had lost them in 1st year, worn the same jacket everyday in the fall and spring in 2nd year, and finally came upon them the first day I wore the jacket in 3rd year.

Likewise, what is our faith to us? Do we go through periods of lost and found in our joy in God? And perhaps this immense joy of finding something valuable that was lost, is but a fraction of the joy God has when His lost child turns back to Him. What can I do to make God happy?

*dear best friends, i am sorry for not letting you know about the loss earlier. the guilt overwhelmed me.

Sabbath-Rest

2007-09-15T09:32:00.000-04:00

Hebrews 4

A Sabbath-Rest for the People of God

1Therefore, since the promise of entering his
rest still stands, let us be careful that none of you be found to have fallen
short of it. 2For we also have had the gospel preached to us, just as
they did; but the message they heard was of no value to them, because those who
heard did not combine it with faith. [a] 3Now we who have believed enter that rest, just as God has said, "So I declared on oath in my anger,
'They shall never enter my rest.' "[ b] And yet his work has been finished since the creation of the world. 4For somewhere he has spoken about the seventh day in these words:
"And on the seventh day God rested from all his work." [c] 5And again in the passage above he says, "They shall never enter my rest." 6It still remains that some will enter that rest, and those who formerly had the gospel preached to them did not go in, because of their disobedience. 7Therefore God again set a certain day, calling it Today, when a long time later he spoke through David, as was said before:
"Today, if you hear his voice,
do not harden your hearts." [d]
8For if Joshua had given them rest, God would not have spoken later about another day. 9 There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God; 10for anyone who enters God's rest also rests from his own work, just as God did from his. 11Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest, so that no one will fall by following their example of disobedience.

The only resolution I made back at New Year's 2007 was to follow Commandment #4 and "keep the Sabbath day holy." I made some attempts at it during my 2nd year, but it fell apart when I returned to Markham. Now that I'm back at school, I think I'm going to give it another shot. I was really excited when I came across the above passage last night, especially when it came to the point where we are instructed to "make every effort to enter that rest." How easy it is for us to make excuses not to rest on the Sabbath, but in the long run, it only hinders our faith because we grow tired and weary and burn out from ministry and work and school, etc.

I hope to truly take this to heart this year and "keep the Sabbath day holy."

Turning Twenty

2007-09-04T23:33:00.000-04:00

Last night was one of the most difficult nights for me. Not because it was my last few moments ever as a teenager, but because I was struggling to stay awake on the bus that was shuttling residents to and from a video dance party. As soon as the bus emptied, the other don and I would try to get some shut-eye before we arrived at the next destination. Despite the utter exhaustion after eight days of don training and two full days of move-in and residence orientation, the other don (also a classmate from highschool) began asking me about turning 20. I felt quite drained since I hadn't had the opportunity to actually think about turning twenty.

Birthdays are some of the things I like to think through and ask myself if I'm ready to grow up another year. Physically, it doesn't make a difference since you've been changing everyday; but psychologically, it's a different mindset to say good-bye to those teenage years and hello to the twenties. As I went to bed last night tired and sniffling with a minor cold, I wondered if it was an omen of what was to come for the next decade: exhaustion and illness.

But September 4th came rushing into my bedroom bright and early on the sharp sunbeams that pierced through my window curtains. My mom called soon after to wish me happy birthday and checking my e-mail showed that my best friend had already sent me a short story she wrote for my birthday. Upon return from the washroom, I noticed a girl from my floor writing on a birthday card taped to my door. What a pleasant surprise!

Walking into the cafeteria with my breakfast tray in hand, some of the dons started singing "Happy Birthday" and soon the rest of the people joined in. It was kinda awkward, but warm at the same time. I could go on about the little special things people did and said all day, but I'll cut to the highlights:

- talking to my mom and hearing about my brother's first day in public school.

- talking to my best friend who helped me see that being twenty probably suits me much better than being a teenager.

- having a few residents produce the cutest and most hilarious gift I've ever received: a T.M.X, which is a tickle-me-elmo that also waves and rolls over.

- hearing my dad's message saying he bought me two mattress pads and hoping that I would enjoy them.

So in summary, it was the first birthday I've ever enjoyed without birthday cake, but there's always other opportunities for cake. It's also been the first birthday I haven't physically been with family, which shows that it's time to grow up. My fellow dons and residents made me feel appreciated, a celebration of being me and turning twenty. Thanks to those who made the day extra special!

1997-2007 was a great decade and I'm really excited for the next decade to come.

Don Training

2007-08-28T07:39:00.000-04:00

Perhaps the most intense week I've ever experienced, don training has been really educational and inspiring. It's helped me bond with my house team of fellow dons and council members and I'm learning from different characters whom I would not have met otherwise.

Yesterday, we woke up early to go to Camp Kennebec. It was a long day of fun and relaxation. Jaclyn and I canoed out to the middle of lake, not really going anywhere, but just feeling the peace and bright, bright sunshine. It was so peaceful, like a moment of respite in a long, arduous journey to reach the day our residents arrive! That day is like a bright end of a tunnel. You don't know where you'll find yourself when you exit the tunnel, but you know that it is bright and therefore you anticipate that moment to come.

During our dialogue book conversation (where a conversation between two people who have met recently but are comfortable with each other go through a book of personal questions that reveal more about the other person's personality and character), we discussed something along the lines of, "The more education we have, the deeper we can go to help people." Going along with my "deeper" theme, I need to start preparing myself to be a university student once more.
If we want to help people in deeper and more meaningful ways, it would be good to have a deeper knowledge and wisdom about our world.

Now, I must think of a floor theme.

West Campus: Closer to the prison than your classes

2007-08-23T21:02:00.000-04:00

After a long, lone, expensive* road trip up to Kingston, I have moved everything and settled quite nicely into my new room on West Campus. This must be the smallest room I have ever lived in, but the storage space is incredible and the room is now livable.

The few days before my drive, I was feeling sad and unwilling to leave Markham, which had once again become a dear home. Yet now that I am here, I am feeling like Kingston is quickly turning into home again. As I drove downtown Kingston in search of a gas station (the only one I remember ever seeing in my days as a pedestrian student), I noticed the incredible night life of Kingstonians. Behind City Hall, a huge silver screen was set up and a lot of people were on portable chairs and bleachers watching a movie. The streets were quite crowded with people and the pubs were fuller than I expected. This was a side of Kingston I hadn't known in my previous two years. I really should check it out some more with my friends this year. It's hard to believe I'm already entering my middle year. I love this place and know that time will zoom by too quickly.

Something I noticed today: people actually drive at the speed limit in Kingston. I was impressed. Perhaps my driving habits shall conform to the other drivers of this quaint city.

*I was caught speeding in a construction zone and must pay a hefty fee of $283. Remember friends, when driving in a construction zone, the speed limit is only 80 km/h. If I remember correctly, if you're speeding in a construction zone with workers present in America, your punishment is some jail time. Fortunately, I'm in Canada.

Farewells to the Familiar and Diving for the Deep

2007-08-19T20:57:00.001-04:00

Summer is quickly coming to a close and in four days I'll be driving back to Queen's on my own for the very first time. As difficult as adjusting to home was, it'll be just as hard saying good-bye. I've treasured the fleeting four months I've spent at home, not knowing when I'll have a chance to spend such a prolonged period of time in my hometown again. Meeting up with friends, best friends, and new friends has been so special. Spending time with family has been a priority, knowing that my brother is going to go through some huge changes throughout his teenage years without me has made me long to stay home more. I'll even miss starting my mornings at the YMCA and hanging out at Across U-hub.

Nevertheless, I know God has so much waiting for me back in Kingston. I've learned and grown so much in my first two years and I know this year will not be different. Starting with an intense week of don training and then meeting the residents whom I'll make a temporary home in residence with, I think there's a lot of unexpected surprises in store for the next eight months.

Lastly, there's a quotation that I found especially meaningful in our church bulletin today by one of my favourite authors.

"Superficiality is the curse of our age... the desperate need today is not for a greater number of intelligent people, or gifted people, but for deep people."
- Richard Foster

It brought me back to the realization that studying hard is not only to get good grades and become intelligent, but to make me a deeper person who has a greater understanding of the world and people around me. This year, I hope to work harder and really know my material deeply. I aim to build deep relationships with the people I encounter. I strive to discipline my body in deeper ways. But mostly, I hope to dive deeper into God's over-flowing well of love and grace.

Toronto friends: farewell and see you soon!
Kingston friends: here I come!!!

Congrats Jerry!

2007-06-24T16:57:00.000-04:00

Congratulations to my little brother, who graduated from elementary school last Thursday!

We knew you'd make it, despite all the difficulties and trials we experienced the past few years. You're awesome and I am proud of you. We love you!

watching the sunrise

2007-06-20T23:01:00.000-04:00

Those that know me well know that I value my sleep very, very much. I will never stay up late working on assignments or studying and insufficient sleep makes me very grumpy. But my daily schedule has been overly hectic with work from 10-5 each weekday and loads of stuff to do in the evenings and weekends. So on Friday night (early Saturday morning), I finally had a chance to sit in bed and read an autobiography about Dorothy Sun, a Chinese Christian who survived the Japanese invasion and Cultural Revolution without denying her faith. Her story was gripping and I kept reading and reading. By the time I finished, it was ten to 5am. As I lay my head down to sleep, I noticed blue emanating from behind my vertical blinds. Curious, I jumped out of bed to reveal this from behind the curtain:

I stood in awe. It must've been the most beautiful sunrise I had ever seen. I ended up sitting in my window (it opens up and is missing its screen) for the next 4o minutes, watching God's paintbrush slowly pull up more pinks and more blues and more lavenders. It was peaceful and quiet, and in that moment, I found rest.

I've been searching lately for what God wants for my life. I'm contentedly at a point where I don't have a specific goal, but whatever flows by my riverbank, I'll take. But reading Dorothy's testimony brought me back to realize my passion for the Chinese people. I care deeply about who my fellow yellows were, are, and will be. I'm glad my job at Across U-hub allows me to serve Chinese people.

As I look back at these photos, I realize how beautiful the sunrise was. For the past 19 years of my life, how many stunning sunrises have I slept through? How many blessings of God have I missed? oh, how I wish I could capture them back, but what I can only do now is to stop the next ones from rising away...

a Beautiful promise

2007-06-06T21:49:00.000-04:00

"Like water spilled on the ground, which cannot be recovered, so we must die. But God does not take away life; instead, he devises ways so that a banished person may not remain estranged from him."

2 Samuel 14:14

I finished reading 2 Samuel this morning and reading it this time around, this verse pleasantly surprised me. It takes on the message of the New Testament where God has already given us life, eternal life, and though we were banished because of our sin, we are now accepted as His beloved children.

Sometimes I take on the burden of trying to change a non-believer's heart or mind; but I forget God's sovereignty and the plan He has for each person. It is so beautiful to know that HE devises ways so that we do not remain estranged. It is so beautiful to know that there is hope where we think hopeless. And it is beautiful to know that we might be a part of the "way" to lead someone to Jesus, but that's all we can do. God is ultimately in control and our prayers must fall in line with His wise and discerning ways in order to see success.

My favourite photo from City Mosaic 2007. Team Mango #27!!

Calm between the Storms

2007-06-01T15:19:00.000-04:00

This past week has been memorable and I'm slightly sad to see it almost over. This post is very journal-like--it's a record of how I passed the days of my week of freedom. (That is, freedom from work and school)

Monday was my last day of practicum and though it was hard to say good-bye, I now feel free from the constraints of an early morning and scheduled class times.

Tuesday was an impromptu date with Amanda, where we studied (a little), visited Edward's Garden and took timer photos of ourselves (btw, who is Edward and why does he have a garden named after him?), visited our old high school and some of our teachers, ate at the Fairview Food Court and looked at too many pairs of shoes.

Tuesday evening was our Summer CCF Planning meeting. I am really thankful for the people I'm serving with this summer.

I have been asking God to convict my heart after I quickly slid into apathy after returning home, so Wednesday was especially exciting. Grace and I met up downtown to visit some potential places for Summer CCF outreach, but we were very pleased with what was offered at Sanctuary. We're looking at a Group Education program where we can do outreach with the homeless and poor. Our meeting with Alan B was a little over an hour, but just hearing what he had to say about the ministry and our hearts was inspirational. Another thing we learned: For the past few summers, the CCF outreach ministry has been to volunteer at a soup kitchen downtown. When we mentioned it to Alan B, he told us that the specific soup kitchen we had mentioned was closing down by the end of June. It is by God's grace that we have found another suitable place to learn and serve.

Wednesday evening, my mom took me, my brother and my grandparents out to Pizza Hut, one of their favourite restaurants. I wish I could spend more time with them. They will be heading back to Taiwan in September and I really don't know when they'll be coming back to Toronto. The tension is pretty tight between my mom and her parents and I can still feel a lot of hostility between them. It makes me sad, but it's not my place to comment.

One of the reasons I stayed home this summer was so that I could spend more time with my grandparents, but I've hardly been able to. I need to make the effort to go where they are; they're so excited whenever I do.

Thursday began like a lazy day. I subwayed down with my mom early in the morning to find a place to sit and read. I ended up on the U of T Campus in one of the little pockets of beauty and solitude that spot the campus. I found a little courtyard within the Trinity College campus and sat on one of four benches smoothed out by the wind and rain. It was a point of peace, a place of quiet to enjoy the day before it became utterly smoggy. The air was warm and the sun was slow. I was reluctant to leave, but did as people began passing through the area. It was mine for the moment, but the moment had passed and so I left.

I trekked through the shops of Bloor and realized I was bored. It was my third day out shopping and nothing was really new anymore. Lunch at Spring Rolls with my mom was fun though. We love Tom Yum Soup. Yum yum.

I met up with my best friends in the afternoon and had an adventure looking for St. Louis restaurant. The wings and fries were tasty, but we felt like we were getting crowded out as a lot of business people were giving a going-away party for a colleague. We hiked to Kimmy's new pad and enjoyed her artwork. I'm excited to see her art exhibit.

Thursday evening I had an Admin meeting at Across. I guess I'm officially a volunteer? After the meeting, I joined a talk that was happening outside. An award-winning film producer/director was visiting from Hong Kong. His specialty was educational entertainment, a.k.a. "edutainment". He tried teaching us how to "read media" and understand it. Admittedly, I am very media unconscious. I don't watch many movies or tv. I don't listen to music apart from the Classical radio station. I hardly read the news unless I get my hands on a newspaper, which is quite rare. All in all, I consider myself very media illiterate. Perhaps I know there's a lot of junk out there that I don't want to wade through in order to find the gems. More and more am I beginning to see the value of media this summer. It even began in the classroom with Rob. He was a media/communications major and sitting through his Drama classes have pointed out that media is a channel of communication. There are hard stories to be told, values to be professed, virtues to be developed. I love art, I really do. But I've only learned to appreciate art from the past. I think it's time to focus on what's being created NOW.

Work begins next week and once again, I will be consigned to a schedule... but it does allow me to sleep in. Work starts at 10 am!

P.S. I will work on shortening these uber-long posts.
P.P.S. For those who I haven't told yet, I will be donning at the all-girls res on West Campus next year.

Student-Teaching @ Bethune

2007-05-28T19:43:00.000-04:00

After 15 days (-1 sick day), 1 field trip (Healthy Schools Development Conference), 2 associate teachers (Mr. Scott & Ms. Villamin), 1 amazing English department, 6 classes (mixture of English and Drama, + a visit to Phys. Ed.), and a lot of Bethunian students (most of them Chinese), I have successfully completed my second practicum for my B.Ed.

I had a really good experience this time around, mainly because I was given work and got along with my associate teachers. It was different being in a public school since I grew up in a private, Christian school, but not different as I had thought. The students were so well-behaved and respectful. They listened in classes and never talked back. They were friendly and accepting and all things good. According to some teachers at Bethune, it's a good place to retire. What's lacking might be just a little bad to spice things up. I had a lot of opportunities to reflect about the teaching career, especially all those hours spent sitting in the back "observing."

Before I begin, I would love to introduce the classes I hung out with for the past 3 weeks:

1) Ms. Villamin's Period 5 Grade 11 English class
(good luck on your soliloquy presentations!) 2) Mr. Scott's Period 3 Grade 12 English class
(hopefully you got something out of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. i'm still trying to figure it out.)

3) Ms. Villamin's Period 1/2 Grade 9 English class

(great job on your biovisuals!)

4) Ms. Villamin's Period 5 Grade 9 English class

(lots of enthusiasm and eager volunteers!)

5) Mr. Scott's Period 3 Grade 11 Drama class

(i wish i could watch your final projects, they're going to be amazing!)

(watching drama presentations in the wonderfully safe drama room/best place to be in case of a school lockdown/note the poor baby on the floor)

6) Mr. Scott's Period 1/2 Grade 9 Drama students

(yes, i was quite shocked at how the baby was treated/they still split the class into a boys' side and a girls' side :) )

On my second last day, I took some time to journal during my prep period. This is what I wrote:

I will miss the students at Bethune. I will miss the teachers, especially those in the English Department.
I'm glad to have visited the various classrooms as I have in these past 3 weeks.
I've learned a lot more about school life as a teacher and what goes on behind
closed doors. I've seen how good students in a school can be--honest, honourable, kind to others, friendly. I've thought about how terrible marking can be and what the real goal of teaching is. From Mr. Ossea, I've learned teaching is about influence (even if it's cynically provided; his last words to me: May your lungs be inhabited by the dust of chalkboards). From Heather Fearon, I've learned teaching is about life. Teaching encompasses so many things! From Abbie, I've seen that teaching is about
developing character. From Rob, I've seen that teaching is about getting kids to
communicate and think. From Mrs. Ireland, I've seen the importance of being organized and stying on track with work.

Some students have needed my help; others haven't.
That's what being a student-teacher is about. You are a student at teaching. But it goes further than that. You also learn what it means to be a student--a student of life. All these observations make me shut up and see what's going on around me;
that each individual has a life, that each individual has a story. I'll never know everybody's story, but I can be a part of it (however small) and they can be a part of mine. I will soon be forgotten here, possibly even before exams are out; but these temporary moments of roaming through the main hallway, being mistaken for a student in staff washrooms, listening to the teachers' most interesting conversations, and most importantly, being in the classroom with the students... these have all played a role and taken up a scene or a chapter in the story of my own life.

Thank you for this memory, Bethune. Hopefully I'll return someday, but until then... all the best!

tired and confused

2007-05-17T23:08:00.000-04:00

My few weeks back have been flying by fast and furiously. My practicum zaps the energy out of me (mainly due to early waking hours) and once again, I've filled my summer with more things than I can handle.

And now I am tired. and exhausted. and looking for a resting place. I thought I would have a chance to break this summer, but by the looks of it, it only gets worse. I'm going to Campus Challenge for the 2nd time this weekend and I'm going to be a small group leader. I feel as though I should be excited, but I'm feeling so lethargic I can't think straight.

And my practicum is making me rethink the teaching profession more and more. I really don't know what I should do with my life.

Enjoy the long holiday, my friends.

Shakespeare and 1 Samuel

2007-05-07T20:20:00.001-04:00

Less than a month ago, I blogged about hating Shakespeare. Two out of three of the English classes I am in for my practicum are studying Shakespeare. I guess this bard is inevitably living among English classes and courses at least in my sphere of the world.

On a completely different note, I began reading through 1 Samuel to refresh my near non-existent knowledge of Biblical history. There have been certain bits of info that pop out that I are memorably enjoyable and I want to share them with you:

1 Samuel ...

1:5, 8, 23 -> Elkanah loved his wife, Hannah, very, very much and allowed her to "Do what seems best to you." She was wise to take her son to "present him before the Lord, and he will live there always."
1:5, 6, 19 -> The Lord opens and closes wombs. Now that I'm back in Toronto I listen to the radio again and hear lots about fertility clinics, healthy pregnancies, etc. Perhaps we forget that the Lord works beyond science and He has the power to restore fertility when we ask it of Him.
2:1-10 -> There are so many beautiful songs that have come from Hannah's thanksgiving. The likes of these include, "There is no one holy like the Lord; there is no one besides you; there is no Rock like our God" and "It is not by strength that one prevails; those who oppose the Lord will be shattered. He will thunder against them from heaven; the Lord will judge the ends of the earth."
3:7 "Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord: The word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him." He was just a boy, but God was already communicating with him through direct revelation. When do we consider ourselves as ones who know the Lord?
3:19 "The Lord was with Samuel as he grew up and he let none of his words fall to the ground." Is our responsibility not to let God's words fall to the ground? How can we live our lives so that God's Word does not go to waste?

Goodness, there's so much more, but I don't want these little gems to overwhelm. More later.

Missions

2007-05-03T22:30:00.000-04:00

After a talking with my best friend about missions last night, a faint prick of nostalgia hit me as I realized this would be my first summer not going overseas for missions (or to Thailand) since the summer of 2005. I thought about all the people we had met, the friends we had made both with students and with the long-term missionaries. It's been a year but I still miss them and I still pray for them.

Asia Team

Thailand Trip #2 Team

Thailand Trip #1 Team

My two summers spent on overseas missions have really changed my life and who I am. A big part of it came from recovering from post-missions depression and regaining my pre-trip spiritual life while combining it with my missions experience. A lot of it came from tripping and stumbling during the actual mission trip and recovering, slowly but steadily, pushed back, but ready to come back stronger than before. My missions experiences have taken a long time to digest and each time I need a certain amount of time before I can understand the impact of my ministry and how God has changed my life through each trip.

What I've learned is that missions is a lifestyle. You can choose to be a missionary wherever you are. Each person is called to live a life of missions by following the Great Commission (Matthew 28:19) and this can be lived out anywhere--whether at home, at school, on campus, in the workforce, EVERYWHERE! I have been so blessed by the two past summers spent doing God's ministry abroad, because I have learned that it doesn't take an expensive flight ticket and hot, sticky conditions to be a missionary. As long as I allow God to be revealed in my words, deeds, and attitudes, I can be a missionary for Him anywhere I go.

Do I regret not going on missions this summer? Not at all. I have a lot awaiting me this summer: my practicum, Across U-hub, BASIC Fellowship, Summer CCF, RHCCC Softball (Pebbles), watercolour classes, and a whole lot of meeting up with friends. But for now, I am contentedly on mission at home with my mom and brother, who are growing more interesting as they age.

Cheers to an exciting new summer!

Internally Flawless

2007-04-24T14:56:00.000-04:00

Taking a break from my studies, I e-stumbled across the website of the world-famous auctioneering company, Christie's . As I e-browsed through the jewellery section of their site, I was impressed by the top sale they made in 2006.

Diamonds continue to lead the international jewellery market, as seen with the exceptional prices achieved at every Christie’s auction worldwide in 2006. The top lot of the year was a D color, internally flawless diamond of 50.53 carats sold for $4,216,000 – just over $83,000 per carat (New York, April 2006).

This was quite the stone--selling for over $4 million at $83,000 per carat! I can't fathom with my limited mind, money being spent like this, but what caught my eye was its description: the diamond was internally flawless.

Most diamonds often have internal scars and markings, the better the diamond, the smaller or less noticeable the mark. As humans, we often carry such scars of past failures, humiliations, struggles, and sins. Like other diamonds, once ingrained, our marks are there forever. But there was such a man who was "internally flawless," and He is Jesus. He lived without sin only to die on a cross covered, enmeshed in all the sins of the world so that He could save us from eternal damnation.

If an internally flawless diamond can cost upwards of $4 million, how much more is Jesus worth? How can we live our lives to proclaim just how much Jesus is worth?

My Shakespeare Statement

2007-04-20T22:55:00.000-04:00

When I become an English teacher, I am going to make Shakespeare fun. If we must teach it, we might as well make it educational. When I become a teacher, I want to give marks based on effort. After all, in the real world, effort counts, right?

No, I guess effort isn't enough. I guess it's really the quality of work that matters in the end. If so, I will teach my students to produce quality work. I will guide them through writing those horrid essays so that they have something they can feel accomplished about. I will avoid discouraging them with low marks. I want to make literature meaningful.

I took two English courses this year: one I loved, the other I hated. Why? I really enjoyed Modern British Literature because the professor encouraged us to think. I really hated Shakespeare because the professor forced us to think until we mentally choked. That is the difference. I want to encourage my students to think by providing them with eye-opening pieces of literature; with new and different insights into the ways of looking at things. I want literature to come alive in my class.

Someday... I will stand in front of a classroom, and say, "Welcome to English class. It is going to be the most important class you will ever take in your life. And you will enjoy it."

Stained Glass Windows

2007-04-18T20:00:00.001-04:00

After two days since the Virginia Tech massacre, my best friend's blog spurred me on to find out more about what happened. What I found was sad, heart-breaking news. One troubled, young, S. Korean man purchased two guns and killed 32 other students and teachers. As an Asian, I wonder if culture had anything to do with it. Did he not fit in? Was he unable to bridge the gap between his Korean history, upbringing, and culture with his new American education and society? As a psychology major, I wonder if damage to his orbitofrontal cortex decreased his inhibition abilities, or if he had some mental disorder (e.g., depression) that nobody noticed? As an English minor reading his plays and analyzing them, I wonder if he had been the victim of sexual abuse. There is little mention of his family in all the news websites I visited. I want to know more about his past. What led up to this tragedy? As someone preparing to be a leader in residence next year, I wonder, what would I do if I were confronted with this situation? How would I respond? Would I respond to my own instincts--to flee and protect myself? Would my responsibilities overtake those instincts in order to protect those around me? I can't say.

As a Christian, my compassion extends for the grieving families, classmates, faculty, and all the others who have been affected. My prayers are for those who have lost dear siblings, sons, daughters, nieces, nephews, friends, fathers, this list of relationships goes on. Moreover, I mourn for the lost souls--those who had not met Christ as their personal Saviour and Redeemer. No one would have woken up that morning expecting it to be their last day. They were young. They had potential to change the world. But now their futures have been snuffed out like flames on new candlesticks.

As a Christian, what am I doing today for the lost souls still wandering the earth? What if I had the chance to bring God's salvation to somebody, but I missed it? This grim event is a reminder for Christians to shine. We can't be too caught up in our daily habits and rituals to miss out on opportunities to be God's light in this dark world.

As I was reading Letters to Marc About Jesus by Henri Nouwen today, I came across a profound anecdote of Nouwen's eucharist experience in Strasbourg. He writes, "During his sermon, the preacher pointed to that huge round window of stained glass [see below] and said, 'It is a work of art made by human beings. But unless God's sun shines through it we see nothing.'"

I love stained glass windows. Whenever I step into a cathedral and the sunshine pours in through the stained glass, I stand in awe of its beauty. What the preacher said at Strasbourg is simply so accurate. We have a choice. We can lives our lives clouded and murky by our own passions, desires, and upward mobility, or we can live pure, sanctified lives that allow the light of God to shine through. And through these divinely brightened lives, may our testimonies and words continue to reach out to those around us.

To the souls that were lost at Virginia Tech on Monday, rest in peace.

"Give careful thought to your ways"

2007-04-17T12:20:00.001-04:00

'Then the word of the Lord came through the prophet Haggai: "Is it a time for you yourselves to be living in paneled houses, while this house remains a ruin?"
Now this is what the Lord Almighty says: "Give careful thought to your ways. You have planted much, but have harvested little. You eat, but never have enough. You drink, but never have your fill. You put on clothes, but are not warm. You earn wages, only to put them in a purse with holes in it.
This is what the Lord Almighty says: "Give careful thought to your ways. Go up into the mountains and bring down timber and build the house, so that I may take pleasure in it and be honored," says the Lord. "You expected much, but see, it turned out to be little. What you brought home, I blew away. Why?" declares the Lord Almighty. "Because of my house, which remains a ruin, while each of you is busy with his own house."

-Haggai 1:3-9

As I lay down to sleep last night and began my night-time prayers, I began to thank God for a well-lived day. Suddenly, alarm bells rang off in my mind... I had not lived a well-lived day. I had only expected to. I began to list off the things I had done, studying, cooking, studying, eating, studying, wrote my developmental psych exam half-heartedly, played Tower of Hanoi (www.mazeworks.com/hanoi), studied, went to sleep. What had I done to glorify God? I didn't even commit my studies to him.

When I woke up to read Haggai this morning, I recognized the type of paradigm in the Israelites that I had been struggling with. I had been so concerned with enjoying my own life and finding my own identity, that I had stopped working on the house of God, which I presume now to be his Kingdom. I need to start giving "careful thought to my ways." I don't want to live my life in futility. I want my life to count for something. I want to take part in the building of God's kingdom, and that begins by honestly thanking God each night for a day well-lived.

His instructions to His people were to "build the house, so that I may take pleasure in it and be honored." That is how we should live our lives--building His house, building His kingdom so that God can enjoy it and God will be honoured. If we don't, our lives will not yield any thing : "you expect much, but see, it turned out to be little." What are these expectations? To make money? To get good grades? To develop good relationships? To travel? Again, if we are not rooted in Christ, all our attempts to succeed will only fail.

Jesus Take The Wheel

2007-04-14T22:45:00.001-04:00

"Jesus take the wheel
Take it from my hands
'Cause I can't do this on my own
I'm letting go
Give me one more chance
Save me from this road I'm on
Jesus take the wheel"

Critical Breaking Point

2007-04-14T21:39:00.000-04:00

"the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases"

I know I've been struggling lately, but I wasn't sure what I was struggling with. Last night, I went to informal fellowship since it's exam season and most of it was singing praises and worship songs. To be brutally honest, I didn't enjoy it. In fact, I wanted to get up in the middle and walk out of the room. In my heart, I could only sense myself criticizing the worship leader. I would look around the room at people singing their hearts out and feel utterly compassionless. I didn't even feel sad that I could not worship--I just didn't care. I was driveling in my own bitterness and cynicism.

Near the end, we broke off into partners to pray for one another and I had the chance to share and pray with a sister I very much respect and admire as a woman of God. At that point, I had no idea what was hindering my worship, but she prayed that God would open my eyes to see what I was struggling with. As the night came to a close, I realized that what was blocking me was a critical spirit. I had been shaken.

After finding out the what, I set out to search for the why. Why was I shaken? Why did I allow this critical spirit to enter my heart and mind? The answer I found was this: I had lost my identity as a daughter of Christ. I had released my grasp on His promise to love me unconditionally.

This loss opened my eyes to my own flaws, and the fear of criticism and judgment from others. As a result, I became critical of others as a self-defense mechanism, to protect my own self-esteem. My criticism of others further weakened my own self-image. The more I compared myself with others, the more inadequate I felt.

I need to run back to the Father whose arms are always open for me. The Father who is always there to assure me that He'll be there for me, whenever I'm sad, whenever I'm rejoicing, whenever I am troubled. I need to be reminded consistently of His promises: that I am a daughter of God and my identity in Him is all that truly matters. For when I am confident and loved, only then can I reach out of my shell to love others too.

Selfish Anger

2007-04-12T08:45:00.000-04:00

When God saw what [the Ninevites] did and how they turned from their evil ways, he had compassion and did not bring upon them the destruction he had threatened. But Jonah was greatly displeased and became angry. He prayed to the Lord, "O Lord, is this not what I said when I was still at home? That is why I was so quick to flee to Tarshish. I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity. Now, O Lord, take away my life, for it is better for me to die than to live.

Jonah 3:10 - 4:4

On first reading, Jonah's response made me laugh. His theology told him that God would save the sinful, godless Ninevites and he tried to run. But he ran onto a ship that encountered tempestuous winds and storms and was finally thrown overboard expecting death, only to be swallowed by a great fish. After this series of miraculous events, Jonah's anger invokes God's question, "Have you any right to be angry?"

I wonder why Jonah is angry. One reading of the book of Jonah is as a fictional allegory, a story that represents something with deeper meaning. Perhaps Jonah represents the people of God as selfish beings, jealous that God is gracious and compassionate to ALL peoples. I also believe that God can allow a man to be kept alive in the belly of a great fish for three days and three nights. Jonah's example and reaction is very human, but strangely so. Is it possible to have experienced so much and still have enough emotion to be angry at God? Is it possible that Christians have experienced the grace of God and withheld it due to selfishness?

Whatever Jonah's story represents, one thing is clear: If you try to run from God's will, you won't be successful, which reminds me of a cynical quote Fran, Sammi, and I saw the other day. It read, "If you want to make God laugh, just tell Him your plans."

Breaking of the Pride

2007-04-10T08:26:00.000-04:00

"The pride of your heart has deceived you,
you who live in the clefts of the rocks and make your home on the heights,
you who say to yourself,
'Who can bring me down to the ground?'
Though you soar like the eagle and make your nest among the stars,
from there I will bring you down,"
declares the Lord.

Obadiah 3-4

Who am I to ever be proud? Who am I to ever say, "Look what I've done!"? I cannot, for it is the Lord who has been working in and through my life. Praise God for His mercy. Praise God for His salvation. He has made the brokenhearted whole and the proud-hearted broken.

To those who live in the clefts of the rocks and have their home on the heights, God loves you. To those who soar like the eagle and make your nest among the stars, God can bring you down for He is just, but His salvation extends also to you.

-Joyce

Motives

2007-04-08T16:12:00.000-04:00

My mom has been encouraging me to read Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller for the past while. Since I returned home for the weekend and finally had a chance to get my hands on the book, I began reading and came across a poem that succinctly describes some feelings I've had for awhile.

All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you.
I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through;
I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn.

Peace, reassurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek,
I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin;
I talk of love--a scholar's parrot may talk Greek--
But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.

-C.S. Lewis, as quoted in Blue Like Jazz

I believe God has slowly been changing my heart to look out from self-less eyes, but I must always check my motives. Who am I bringing glory to, myself or God? This poem, its message is quite severe. This is not where I want to be, but brokenness begins with acknowledging the sinful, depraved, selfish nature within myself and asking God to free me.

Happy Easter! He is risen indeed!