Don't Forget Thanksgiving

First week of school? Check.

First rehearsal for children's Christmas musical? That's next week.

New baby? Almost there.

Looks like I won't be writing as much these next few months.

But if I could leave you with only one thought between now and Christmas, this would be it.

My children and I were at the store a few days ago, and we couldn't believe our eyes. It's August, and the store already put out Christmas wrappings and toys! Maybe it's me (I can hardly think past this weekend), but isn't that a bit early? I shook my head in disbelief, then made a wide detour around the Christmas aisle. After shopping for a bit, we ended up on the other side of that same aisle, except instead of Christmas things, the racks showcased Halloween costumes. Of course, my children noticed right away, and my daughter commented, "They have Halloween and Christmas, but they skipped over Thanksgiving!"

Yes, I agree with her. Many people have skipped over Thanksgiving. I'm not saying that businesses should start commercializing Thanksgiving like they do Halloween and Christmas; what I mean is that we have lost the spirit of Christmas. We need to remember that Christmas is not just about decorating and buying. We should not allow the extravagance of 'stuff' to overshadow its simple message. We should not rack up debt on credit cards during the holiday season when a small, heart-felt gift or letter and a spirit of gratefulness mean so much more. We should not forget why we celebrate, why we have any reason at all to be thankful in the first place.

I love Christmas. It's a beautiful holiday. But I find it beautiful because God came to be with us in the most rustic and unimpressive way possible. And for that I am thankful.

Home is Where...

I've been completely overwhelmed the past few days with how blessed I am to live in the house we have. It's funny how nothing may change in your day-to-day living, but everything changes when God opens your eyes. I would be working in the kitchen, and suddenly realize what an amazing work space I have. I would walk into a room, and feel refreshed simply by entering it. I would look at the backyard and my children's play space in the family room, and not heave my usual "look-at-this-mess" sigh, but instead, mutter a prayer of thanks for the perfect house for my kids to grow in. And I would walk out to the front yard, and just take a moment to enjoy the trees and the quiet neighborhood, and bask in the blessings surrounding me.

I still love telling the story of how God gave us this house. Let me take you back to November 10th, 2008, the day I turned thirty.

Because I chose not to have a big party for my thirtieth birthday, we celebrated with my parents and in-laws at our house. It was a quiet but lovely evening, ending with cake and the Baird's traditional three-verse rendition of the birthday song. Then everyone said their 'good nights'  and the kids were put to bed, leaving my husband and I to enjoy the rest of the evening together. The first thing he said was, "Let's sit down. I have something to tell you." Of course, I knew it was bad news... I could hear it in his voice. My mind started racing... heart problems, cancer, infidelity... what was the worse possible news? When he said, "I was laid off today," my shoulders actually relaxed. After all, a job is easier to replace than a husband.

But after several months of joblessness, my optimism and faith in God wavered. Would He ask us to move? We had barely lived in this house for two years, after outgrowing our two-bedroom apartment. There were so many things about this house that I enjoyed: the small yard, perfect for my young children to run in; the peach and apricot trees, and the roses blooming in the front; the roominess of the layout, hospitable and inviting to guests; our relationship with the landlady and her sons (she was so understanding, she lowered our rent a little when we told her of our situation). Oh, and I was pregnant. Surely God would not ask us to move from this perfect home that He had given us!

But still, every application my husband sent in was a dead end. We had to reassess... either we try to stay in the house and continuing digging into our savings, or we move, out-of-state (not what we really wanted, because we would be leaving behind most of our family and friends) or into my husband's parents' home. We decided to say 'yes' to my in-laws' offer, but gave ourselves a deadline to try to find a job. The closer that deadline got, the more anxious I became. I cried at the thought of moving from our perfect house. But when the day came that we knew what we must do, my heart was ready to trust in God's sovereignty.

We moved in with my in-laws in July, 2009, and my fourth child was born in August. My husband still found only bits of work here and there, but the pressure was off for us to keep up with rent. He did find a teaching job in November, and when everything seemed like a good fit, we hoped and prayed that the school would ask him back for the following year. It was not until he signed a contract in late spring that I was able to really start looking for a new house.

I started on Craig's list. Rent had gone up significantly, and nothing near our old neighborhood was affordable. So I looked in Livermore, but even there, the only houses within our price range were small for a family of six. I told myself to settle for whatever I found and make do with the size; there are worse things in life than living in a small house. But God had different plans for us. We looked at house after house, and each had something that didn't suit us. I finally found a house that was in our price range, but was bigger than even our old house. I prepared myself for the worse: a house that large in our price range usual meant that it was old and rickety. But when we viewed it, my husband and I were astounded! We could not figure out what was wrong with it! The landlord was an honest man who wanted a family to live in the house for a few years, until his family was ready to move into it. We looked at the large kitchen, the open family room, the space for home schooling, and we couldn't believe our eyes! God had led us (again) to the perfect home for us!

So we applied for the rental right away, and left that weekend for our church family camp. Camping was exactly what I needed, because I couldn't check Craig's list or call on the phone. All I could do was calm my heart and trust that God would honor us with the house. When we returned from camp, the landlord called us and told us we could sign the lease and move in right away. And that was July 1st, 2010! Since then, we've had countless guests, church small group meetings, kids' birthday parties, a band concert, and housemates move into the extra bedroom. We can only bless others with this blessing that God has given us.

I don't know how much longer I have to live in this house, but I will enjoy it every day. And when the time comes to move again, I will trust that God will provide us with another perfect house, because home is where God leads us.

Grabbing the Moment

At lunch yesterday, my 8-year-old son noticed an ant on the flower arrangement. He watched it for a while, amused by the tiny creature's efforts to find a way out of the maze of leaves and petals. After a few minutes, he started directing the ant, "If you go down this stem, you can get to the edge of the vase..." Of course, the ant didn't listen. Finally giving up, my son commented, "The ant is lost in a forest of flowers."

I had noticed during this that I had a captive audience. All children were seated around the table, and all children had intently watched and listened to my son's interaction with the ant. This was my chance to grab a teaching moment before it slipped away.

"If we were the tiny ant," I started, "who would be like the person watching the ant?"

My children easily answered, "God."

Then I elaborated. "Our lives are like the ant on the flowers. We're trying to find our way somewhere, and maybe we'll find it, but maybe we won't. But God can see all the flowers, and He can see the right way to go. So if you were the ant, what would you do?"

After they answered, "Listen to God," I concluded by saying, "It's sad that many people don't want to listen to God." And that was it.

It doesn't take a long lecture. By grabbing the moments and weaving God and other deeper issues into everyday conversations, your child will grow in understanding with every passing day.

My BFF (I can't believe I'm actually using that phrase!)

I LOVE MARRIAGE!!

And not because I'm some hopeless romantic living in a fairy tale. After nine years of marriage, I know better!

I love marriage because I've learned so much from it: what it means to sacrifice, compromise, and love someone as myself; I've been encouraged to grow and stretch, to be strong and courageous, to be more myself; I am a witness to unconditional love, which makes me feel more secure and confident than ever before; I know more what Christ means when He describes himself as the Bridegroom.

I love marriage so much that I have always wanted to write about it, to inspire other wives, but I find it a difficult topic to write about. When my husband asked me why, I told him, "Because marriage is so easy!"

So you see, I've been blessed (and spoiled). Now, my husband and I had our share of misunderstandings and straight-out-pig-headed fights, but all in all, marrying my husband was as natural as breathing. Part of the reason why it's been so easy is because I married my best friend! If you are married, I hope you can call your husband your best friend. If you are not yet married, I say, "Find someone who you can call your best friend!"

Surprisingly, though, I've met women who don't feel like their husband is their best friend. Roommate, business partner, good friend perhaps, but not best friend. The idea of your husband being a 'friend' just sounds strange to most people, because most of us manage life by putting people and things into categories. 'Husband' is in the category of 'spouse' and 'marriage' and 'family', while 'friend' is not. We have a different set of expectations for a 'spouse' than for a 'friend'. But that is where our mindset must change. That is where we answer the question, "What does it mean to be married to your best friend?"

Start by thinking about what makes a great friend. A few things that come to my mind are:

-he/she is an intent listener

-he/she makes time for you

-he/she is courteous and respectful of you

-he/she takes an interest in your interests

Now apply those things to your marriage... are you a great friend to your husband? If you answer 'no', don't worry, you can become a great friend. This will mean establishing new habits and biting your tongue at times, but by changing your mindset of 'he is my husband' to 'he is my friend', you can cultivate a beautiful friendship within your marriage.

Here is a quick example of how your actions change when your mindset changes. After cooking a wonderful dinner, you would like your husband to take care of the dishes. Normally, if he doesn't volunteer, you fume and grumble. And if he does, you don't mention it, because after all, husbands should do the dishes. But if a friend came over for dinner, you wouldn't expect your friend to wash your dishes! Your choice then is to either ask your husband politely to help you with the dishes, or if he volunteers without your asking, acknowledge it. And THANK HIM afterwards for doing something he didn't have to do. It's the same with the garbage. Even if your husband takes out the garbage every week, THANK HIM for doing it, every time he does it! Thank him for working to support the family. Thank him for reading a story to the kids, or for changing a diaper. Use the word please, especially at the dinner table. It's sad that sometimes the people we treat with the least amount of manners (and respect) are the people closest to us.

Go through the other characteristics on the list (or on your own list) and think about how you can be a better listener (stop whatever you're doing and look your husband in the eye when he's talking about his day at work), or make time for your husband (call a babysitter and schedule a date!), or show interest in his hobbies. One story that I will never forget involves a wife going deer hunting with her husband, despite years of expressing her distaste for the sport. The two of them left before sunrise to go and sit in the forest, completely silent and still, for hour after hour. When they were done, they had not even taken one shot, or spoken one meaningful sentence to each other.  The wife thought to herself, "What a disappointment! I wanted this to be a special day, but my plan didn't work at all!" but as they were walking back to the car, her husband took her hand and said, "I had a great time with you, honey." This story may be completely fabricated, but I like the lesson it is conveying to spouses (and especially wives). A friend knows what the other person loves, and makes the effort to do that for or with the person. A helpful book for couples to read (together, if possible) is His Needs, Her Needs, by Willard F. Harley. It may help you understand better how wives and husbands must learn to meet the needs of the other within a marriage.

Lastly, a best friend goes beyond the list above. A best friend is someone you go to first with your joys and sorrows, someone you forgive unceasingly, someone you know inside and out. You share everything with this person, and you never talk badly about this person. Again, list the qualities that make a best friend, and see how many of these qualities you bring to your marriage. Pray that God can help you forgive, or tear down walls that have been built up over the years, or hold your tongue. Ask Him to bless your marriage and help you become a BFF (which, by the way, means Best Friend Forever) to your husband.

Another topic to discuss is having a husband who is also your 'brother in Christ'... but I'll save that for another day.

A New School Year

Summer is quickly drawing to a close, though in California, the only changes that mark the approaching autumn are the sun setting earlier and the calendar turning another page. I look back and think of the fun we've had the past two months: camping, road trip to Washington state, play dates, fruit picking, learning to swim, sew, play the piano, and ride a two-wheeler. We never did make it to Angel Island, though... oh well, maybe next summer!

I haven't written much lately because my mind is now consumed by one thing: homeschooling. I'm starting earlier this year because the baby is due in October, so I have only two weeks to fully prepare myself for starting third grade, second grade, and kindergarten with my children. Excuse me then, if you are not a homeschooling parent; I am going to write a little about it. You can skip on to another blog entry! But remember, homeschooling or not, you as a parent are part of your child's learning process!

In our family, we have a few homeschooling traditions. These were passed on to me from other homeschooling veterans, so I'd like to pass them on to you! You may want to incorporate a few of these ideas into your school year.

-We start the year off with a special outing. It doesn't have to be something big, just something that we don't do very often. Last year we went bowling as a family, and the children knew that the reason we were going was to celebrate the beginning of the school year. Other families have a traditional outing, or event, such as a tea party. You can also ask other homeschooling families to join you and 'kick off' the year together.

-On the same day as the special outing, we put together our time capsule. Each child fills in a worksheet that has their name, age, and height on it, along with a place for them to draw a self-portrait and write about their favorite things and goals for the year. They also choose a special toy to go into the capsule. The capsule will be opened on the last day of school (and I make sure they all understand this as they put their toy into the box.)

-Also going into the time capsule is the Bible verse for the year. This is a verse I pick out, thinking about what I want our overall focus for the year to be. The first year I did this, I chose Luke 10:27, Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind. I discussed with the children how learning is not just about putting facts into your brain, but instead, how it incorporates growing as a person, taking care of our bodies, and learning how to love God and people better. Last year and this year, our verse is Psalm 19:1, The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. I chose this verse because we were studying zoology last year, and astronomy, geology and botany this year. The verse is also one of the memory verses for the year.

-On the first day of school, I pack the kids a sack lunch and have them 'walk' to school (which means they go out to the sidewalk, turn around, and walk back and knock on the front door.) There is no reason for this except that the children find it very amusing and like eating a lunch out of a bag. I always take photos too.

-And for our last tradition (at least for now), we end the school year with a performance. We invite grandparents and relatives in the area, along with some homeschooling friends. Special guests are people who have supported us during the year, either by being a homeschooling veteran and giving us encouragement, or participating in a project and helping us out. The week before this special night, the children decorate the house and bake desserts (each chooses a dessert to make). We put up art, writings, crafts, and posters from the year. The children also sing, dance, or play the piano, and recite a Bible passage (like Psalm 23), so we do daily rehearsals to prepare. I make programs, the children dress up, and play usher too. It's a very fun night!

-I have also mentioned before the book I Saw the Angel in the Marble, by Chris and Ellyn Davis. This collection of essays covers everything from 'how to start homeschooling' to 'encouragment for those who have done this for years!' I read it every summer as a refresher. It serves as a good reminder that God called me to follow His will, not to compare myself to other homeschooling moms.

If you have traditions you'd like to share, please do so! I hope your year starts off well! Happy teaching and learning!

Thank God for the Holy Spirit!

Let me share with you a moment I just had.

I was putting the kids to bed, by myself because my husband is taking a class tonight, which isn't usually a problem, except for the unpredictability of an almost-two-year-old. I was thinking that it would be nice to sing the kids a lullaby tonight, so I asked the girls to stay in the boys' room, which meant that my youngest could lie in his bed and listen. Well, he wouldn't have it. He was already revved up from giving Buzz Lightyear a bath in the sink after brushing his teeth, then attacking me with swords, then attempting to hug a beach ball instead of holding hands while we prayed. I was trying to sing while keeping the little one in his crib, and he was having a blast playing his new game, 'Dodge-the-Mama'. My older children couldn't help but laugh, and after asking them once to stop (which they didn't), I gave up. My patience done, I stopped singing and asked the girls to go to their room. Then I tucked them in, kissed them, and said "Good night, I love you", as usual.

A few minutes later, after putting in some laundry and finishing the dishes, my anger burned off and I was able to think clearly again. I felt a nudge to go talk to my children; ending a day on a sour note like that was potentially harmful, because the incident may stick in my children's heads for years. I wouldn't want my children growing up and always thinking that their mother had no time, patience, or understanding for them.

So I went and talked to each child, explaining that I didn't blame them for laughing at their brother, and also making sure that they understood why I stopped singing. Then, I apologized for losing my temper, and asked them for forgiveness. Now I can sleep better tonight.

Maybe I made a mistake in stopping the lullaby, maybe I should have shown more patience with my young ones, but whatever mistakes I made, I'm glad the Holy Spirit urges me to right the wrong. I know that I have many more years of parenting ahead of me, and MANY more mistakes will be made, but with God's help, my mistakes will not become my children's stumbling blocks later in life. 

My Story

(I realized it might be helpful to some of you to hear the story of how I met Jesus Christ. My pastor had advised me to type it up as an exercise, to prepare myself if ever someone asked me. If you've never written out your story, try it. You will find that yours is remarkable!)

I used to feel like I didn’t have a story, because I had no extraordinary meeting with God. When you’ve been going to church for your whole life, it’s easy to think that you know God. I knew what other people said about Him, but I didn’t really know Him. I gradually became acquainted with God, as my Savior, as my Friend, and as my Lover, slowly over 32 years. This is what my story is about. 

My dad is a pastor, and I attended church as soon as I left the hospital. The church building became my home away from home. On those long days when my dad had meeting after meeting, I would play ‘hide-and-seek’ and ‘sardines’ with my siblings, running up and down the stairs and in and out of closets. I knew all the best hiding places in a church, which are in the curtains, in the pulpit, and under the communion table. Our family would eat lunch and sometimes dinner there, and I practiced piano there. I remember coming up with games that involved crawling under the church pews on my belly. And I hated having to wear dresses on Sundays, because it’s easier to crawl under the pews with pants on! But I did learn other things besides  ‘hide-and-seek’. I also knew every memory verse, every Bible story,  every hymn sung in church. There was no question in Sunday School that I couldn’t answer.

Except one.

When I was ten, a teacher asked me, “Have you accepted Jesus as your personal Savior?”

I had always assumed that I was going to heaven, just like my parents, just like everyone who goes to church. I finally learned that I had to choose for myself, that all the things I did on Sundays were not the way to heaven. I realized that I was a sinner, even if I went to church and was basically a ‘good’ person, because no matter how hard I tried, I could never be perfect.  My sin separated me from God, my Creator, and separation from Him equals death. So I was dead, and would remain dead, unless I accept Christ’s gift, that He died on the cross, in my place, taking my penalty. All I had to do was accept that gift, but I had to do it myself.

And so, that day, I accepted Jesus as my Savior. Then I knew that I was guaranteed eternal life in Heaven with Him.

As a new believer, I tried to do everything right. Sunday School teachers told me that I would become a new person, so I prayed about my short temper and asked God to help me with that. The teachers told me to read the Bible everyday, so I tried to do that. God did reveal Himself to me in little ways (my bad temper did get better), but my life seemed very much the same. I was so confused, asking myself “What more am I suppose to do? How can I be a better Christian when I already go to church and do all these things?” There was suppose to be some kind of growth in my relationship, but I didn’t feel it happening. So I strove to be a better person, and as I grew older, I also started teaching Sunday School, playing piano in the service, and leading the youth group. I guess I felt that I must owe God something for what He did for me. I would think back to the day I made my decision to follow Jesus, and try even harder to keep my end of the ‘bargain’. I knew what I needed to do to live a good Christian life, but sometimes I failed, and then I would call myself a bad Christian. At that point, I was so busy in the church that I had a hard time really listening to God. To many people, I looked solid, but there were many holes in my faith. But God never turned from me, even when I entered my college years and started questioning Him as new philosophies tried to fill those holes. He waited for the day when I was ready, ready to hear Him.

That day came when I was twenty. All it took was a sermon series on God’s love (not, “For God so loved the world…so He sent His son…and you must do this to respond”, but “God loves you! He enjoys you! He wants to be with you, and that’s why He sent His son!”) That was the first time I ever ‘heard’ someone say that God enjoys me, and that all He wants is a relationship with me. His entire motivation for sending Jesus to the cross was love! And He wants to give me more good things, beginning with the gift of His Son. I finally understood that ‘eternal life’ was not something that happens when I ‘go to Heaven’, but something that happens NOW, because the cross took away the gap between God and me, restoring the loving relationship between my Maker and me. And I can still do things to serve Him, but my love for Him is the foundation from which the service must flow.

For the first time in my life, my heart felt whole. The holes were gone. My self-image changed. I saw God not as the ‘Judge’, but as the ‘Friend’ and ‘Lover’ who accepted me, scars, filth and all. And it felt good knowing that my life’s goal is not working to get God’s attention. Sometimes I still fall into that trap. I get focused on reading the Bible as another thing on my checklist, instead of a time to be with God, my Friend. I volunteer for things because I know I should, not because I genuinely care. Sometimes I get so busy that I forget that I need to be still and listen. I need to hear him call me ‘Beloved’, which means that I need to

just

be

loved.

This is what I’m working on now; this is the sin that still creeps in, and prevents me from feeling like I’m truly abiding in Christ.

And so, for the first ten year of my life, I knew ‘of’ God. The second ten years, we were acquaintances. The third ten years, we’ve been friends. Now I’m thirty-two, and I want to know Him as my Lover. I want to fall completely in love with him,  and be like an old-married couple with Him. I want to live in the knowledge that God’s Son on the cross was not a one-time act of love, but a symbol of ALL the love He has for me and wants to give me.

(and for those of you who are parents, I want to say, "Don't assume that bringing your child to Sunday School is enough. And don't assume that having a child that serves in the church is enough. Talk to your children about Christ, when you are walking, when you are eating, whenever you are together!") 

Trading in My Jeep

Seeing a blue Jeep zoom by me on the freeway the other day reminded me that I used to want to own one. Not that I'm into cars, but somehow, I can picture myself in a Jeep, open to the elements, hair flying in the wind. But here I am, in my minivan, which will soon be full with the arrival of the new baby. Who knows when I'll ever drive a Jeep? or will I really care at that point?


When we were expecting our third child, I started doing research on bigger cars. And I didn't start with the minivans. SUVs were popular at the time, and despite the jokes that most SUVs have never gone off-road, I just couldn't picture myself in a minivan. Living in the Tri-valley, I saw so many Asian moms in minivans, and I didn't want to become 'one of them'. Which only shows that I still cared too much about how others viewed me at a glance (and that I also was too quick to judge sometimes).


I finally gave myself a good lecture and did research on some minivans, which were definitely the better fit for our family. My husband and I went out and purchased a used Sienna, and I became a 'suburban mom in a minivan'. For months after, I played around with the idea of dying my hair purple or pink, something bright. I needed to stand out in the sea of minivans on Interstate 580, to stand alone among the 'soccer moms'. 


But I never did dye my hair. Why? Because I was able to accept the truth that my identity doesn't come from a hunk of metal. Yes, I could put stickers on my window or a fun license plate holder on it, and feel less like part of the mass, but really, I didn't need that either. I am me, with or without a van, or a Jeep.

The Beautiful (Part 2)

Writing about the beautiful made me think about physical beauty. I always want to write about female beauty, but unlike God's beauty, female beauty is more difficult for me to grasp. So then, I don't write about it. But I think it's a topic worth discussing, so I'm writing this now hoping that you the reader may offer some insight.

I grew up wanting to be blond and blue-eyed, or brunette and green-eyed, because I never saw or heard of a Chinese person being beautiful. Then I traveled to Hong Kong to visit family, and only felt like a misfit there because of my height, my tanned, freckled skin, and my wiry hair. I didn't fit the image of Chinese beauty: petite and ivory-skinned, with hair that cascaded like a rich, black waterfall. It didn't help that my grandmother called me 'gweigh mui' (foreign devil girl) and my aunts called me fat.

Then I attended UC Berkeley, the land of feminist ideals. Females there rebelled by not shaving, not wearing make-up, and not allowing males to box them in in any way. Women were strong and beautiful, and didn't need men to tell them so, or tell them how to be so. In a setting like that, I couldn't help but feel more confident, but something was still wrong. Did I really NOT need men? I didn't agree with that entirely. As graduation neared, and students talked about graduate school, performance, and career goals, I shied away from the conversations, because I couldn't ignore the desire in me to forego a career-driven life and become a stay-at-home mom.

I was so confused. Mixed messages bombarded me from every side. The adolescent part of me still saw the magazine covers and longed for super-model legs and flawless skin. The realistic part of me berated me with "You cannot change the body you have! Work on making the most of what you have!" And the Bible has several passages that address women and beauty: Proverbs 31 (verse 30, Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised) and 1 Peter 3 (verse 3-4, Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight). I knew these verses, and believed in them with all my heart, which only made me feel more guilty for taking time to tame my hair, look at make-up, or peruse fashion magazines.

But then I read Captivating, by John and Stasi Eldredge. Something spoke to me there. For the first time, I heard the message that God created women to add beauty to the world, through her physical appearance, her decorative touches, and her attention to detail. Denying myself of 'looking pretty' was not in God's design at all, according to the authors. And wanting to look my best and to be admired for it (especially by my husband) is not a sin. 

So you see my dilemma. And now I have two (almost three) daughters to raise and teach. Already, my oldest (who is almost seven) is gazing at herself in the mirror, trying out hairstyles, wanting to wear make-up, and simply admiring her own reflection. What can I say to my girls when they reach their teenage years, besides the truth that everyone is beautiful because we are all created in God's image? What is a good balance for a Christian who wants to stay fit, look good for her husband, look presentable to the world, and enjoy being the person God has created her to be?