Breaking Fast

Some of you know that on January 1st, 2013, I began a twelve-month fast from buying clothes, shoes, jewelry, or make-up for myself. I knew that I had enough of those things, and that I shopped not for need, but for fulfillment. 

I found that as the months passed, it became easier to not think about shopping. Ads quickly went in the recycle bin or junk box of my e-mail. Whenever I looked through my closet and felt like "I have nothing to wear," I dug a little deeper to find a shirt or dress that I hadn't worn in a while, discovering new combinations or jazzing up an old outfit with a different scarf, hat, or jacket. The more I did this, the more time I spent on being creative and focusing on inner beauty, and the less time I spent at the stores or on the Internet, or worrying about impressing people with my outer appearance.

And more importantly, my fast taught me gratefulness at a deeper level. It's all too easy to go out and buy something for yourself when you want it. Instant gratification is now a click away with amazon.com. Consumerism lives down the street from my house at the outlet mall. But when you receive the item as a gift (even if it's not exactly what you wanted), you know it is a blessing because someone else was thinking of you. A pair of gray pants that didn't fit my friend has become a favorite dressy item for me. My sister has given me several of her old dresses and shirts, which I appreciate because she has a wonderful sense of style. My husband bought me a beautiful necklace for my birthday, and I love giving him the credit for it whenever someone compliments me. 

And now the day of breaking fast is approaching. Part of me wants to go out on New Year's Day and hit the sales, and part of me says, "There's no need, no rush… the clothes will still be there." Even after a year, I still don't have a real need for clothes. Two of my favorite pairs of jeans now have holes in the knees, but come spring and summer, I won't mind the air-conditioning. There are several weddings in 2014, but I attended two weddings this past year and had a lovely and suitable outfit for each of them. And when I finally need new pants, I think I'll visit the local thrift store to hunt for some used treasures. Just because 2013 will be over, it doesn't mean I should jump back into my old habits. I want to continue to cultivate my thriftiness, my gratefulness, and my dependency on God.

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning…" (Lamentations 3:22-23)"

There is never a bad day to make a change in your life. Whatever you feel is keeping you from growing in Christ, choose the new year to conquer that beast forever. And may 2014 be a wonderful year of hope, joy, and peace for you!

To read more about my year's journey, read my post from July 1st, My Twelve-Month Fast.

Christmas Song

The darkest night in Bethlehem, few were awake to hear

Creation softly singing, the time was drawing near,

While the world despaired, all hope was dim,

The gates of heaven were closed,

The face of God was hidden from his people down below.

But those whose eyes were open beheld a wondrous sight:

Angels filled the void above, proclaiming the coming light,

And the gates of heaven opened wide, the veil pulled back to show

A tiny babe, a helpless child, the son of God bestowed.

The mystery of Christmas Day is God becoming man;

Omnipotent, omniscient, yet bound by human hand,

But broken hearts will be renewed, the weak shall be made strong,

The blind will see, the deaf will hear, the mute will sing this song,

"Alleluia, peace and joy to all!

Alleluia, hear the angels' call!"

Christmas Quotes

Love came down on Christmas Day so many years ago and brought the greatest happiness the world would ever know… Peace came down on Christmas Day to fill the hearts of men with all the sweet tranquility each Christmas brings again… Joy came down on Christmas Day as angels came to earth heralding the miracle of our Messiah's birth.

-Anonymous

Jesus Christ became Incarnate for one purpose, to make a way back to God that man might stand before Him as He was created to do, the friend and lover of God Himself.

-Oswald Chambers

For the great and powerful of this world, there are only two places in which their courage fails them, of which they are afraid deep down in their souls, from which they shy away. These are the manger and the cross of Jesus Christ. No powerful person dares to approach the manger, and this even includes King Herod. For this is where thrones shake, the mighty fall, the prominent perish, because God is with the lowly. Here the rich come to nothing, because God is with the poor and hungry, but the rich and satisfied he sends away empty. Before Mary, the maid, before the manger of Christ, before God in lowliness, the powerful come to naught; they have no right, no hope; they are judged.

-Dietrich Bonhoeffer

The Son of God became a man to enable men to become the sons of God.

-C.S. Lewis

In a couple of days another Christmas will be over. Decorations will be taken down and the grind of daily life will resume. We must do something to remember that the message and meaning of CHristmas does not cease when the celebration is over. Christmas is not really about a celebration, Christmas tress, and piles of gifts. Christmas, the coming of Christ, is about everyday life. God is with us and we need to do anything we can,to remember that fact the rest of the year.

-Bruce Goettsche


(Click here for last year's Christmas quotes.)

Songs of Christmas

I've always wanted to write a Christmas song, but there are so many beautiful ones out there already that make this a truly difficult endeavor. The other difficulty in writing a Christmas song is getting past the cliches and the obvious. Christmas is so simple, and at the same time, so full of mystery… but how to express that in words?

The Christmas carols of old say it best:

Joy to the world! the Lord is come;
Let earth receive her King;
Let every heart prepare him room,
And heaven and nature sing.


But have you ever sung past the standard first verse of the well-known carols? Some of them speak wonderful theology and profound thoughts that go beyond the birth, the angels, and the shepherds. See if you can recognize which Christmas carols these verses are from:


Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains shall he break for the slave is our brother,
And in His name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise His holy name!
Christ is the Lord, oh praise His name forever,
His pow'r and glory evermore proclaim.

(O Holy Night, by J.S. Dwight and A. C. Adam)


How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of His heaven.
No ear may hear His coming;
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive Him still,
The dear Christ enters in.

(O Little Town of Bethlehem, by Phillips Brooks)

Christ, by highest heaven adored;
Christ the everlasting Lord;
Late in time behold Him come
Offspring of a Virgin's womb
Veiled in flesh, the Godhead see;
Hail the incarnate Deity,
Pleased as man with men to dwell,
Jesus, our Emmanuel,
Hark! the herald angels sing,
"Glory to the newborn King!"

Hail! the heaven-born Prince of Peace!
Hail! the Son of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings
Risen with healing in His wings
Mild He lays His glory by,
Born that man no more may die;
Born to raise the sons of earth,
Born to give them second birth,
Hark! the herald angels sing,
"Glory to the newborn King!"

(Hark the Herald Angels Sing, Charles Wesley)


Why lies He in such mean estate,
Where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christians, fear, for sinners here
The silent Word is pleading.
Nails, spear shall pierce Him through
The cross be borne for me, for you,
Hail, hail the Word made flesh,
The babe, the son of Mary.

(What Child is This?, by William Chatterton Dix)

Family Focus and Fun

After titling two posts with 'family', I thought I'd go for the hat trick. Not only that, I have three words starting with 'f' in this title!

This post is a reminder to all parents to take time this holiday season to enjoy your family. I myself was reminded of this while watching 'The Rise of the Guardians' with the children a few months back. Here is a short YouTube clip showing the moment when Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy also realize that they focus so much of their respective holidays that they have forgotten to focus on the children. (If you don't want to watch the whole clip, skip to the 1:00 mark, and watch until the 1:30 mark.)

I've always wanted to make Christmas a special time for my children. I almost always made their gifts. We had our advent stockings and stories, we baked, we sang. But I also wanted to share Christmas with everyone else. I wanted to take part in every church event, friendly gathering, and family obligation, and I figured if we went as a family, I was still sharing Christmas with my kids. But what usually happened was that our family time became rushed, and I became frazzled. Cookies aren't as fun to make and decorate when you're in a hurry. Stories can't be savored when they're squeezed in between breakfast and getting out the door. And I have becoming increasingly aware these past months that though I am with my children almost all the time, I am rarely doing something with them. Simply being in the same room with another person doesn't count. (Can you imagine going out for dinner with your spouse or friend and sitting at different tables?) And every year, my children are growing older, whether I choose to savor it or not.

So this year, I intentionally ended the children's choir before Thanksgiving. I am carefully picking which events to attend and activities to take part in. And with the time I have between homeschooling and my few obligations, I want to laugh with my children. I want to play with them and watch the rain with them. I want to continue what I learned from my children last year (see 2012's post, 'Joy, Joy, Joy') and run with it. And yesterday was a perfect example: instead of going to a cookie exchange party with mostly strangers, I took the kids downtown to play in the snow (machine-made, of course) and then we were all in the Livermore Christmas parade together (which really means a lot of waiting with a little bit of walking… plenty of time to chat and sing carols).

I plan on posting a few Christmas quotes later, but otherwise, you may not hear much from me until the new year. And so I want to leave you with this:

May your Christmas be truly full of wonder, joy, and peace!

Note about the movie: If you are a parent who wants to avoid the secularism surrounding the sacred holidays of Christmas and Easter, I do not recommend this movie to you. Never once is Jesus mentioned. But it is a fun movie, and a good one to watch with your older (age seven and up) children and discuss afterwards ("Where does spring come from?" "Who brings true hope?") For a more thorough review, go to Plugged In.

Family Portrait (take 2)

Sometimes the cynic in me comes out. After posting 'Family Portrait' yesterday, I realized that in trying to sound humorous, I sound more like a bitter old woman. I've revised the post, and I hope it encourages you!

~~~~~~~

We have a photo session scheduled for the 14th. I am dreading the day. (Call me a wimp, but I have never had a good family photo session.)

Because not only do I have to get myself ready (will my hair choose to cooperate that day?), I have to get five other people ready (at least my husband can take care of himself). 

And I need to find clothes that coordinate at least a little, without going out and buying matching shirts in sizes toddler to large adult.

Then we have to sit still in front of a camera and all smile at the same time, which is a miracle close to the parting of the Red Sea.

After an hour-long session last year, the result was a Christmas family portrait in which my oldest is scowling like the Grinch and my youngest is front and center throwing a fake snowball at the camera. 

Well, at least it's authentic, I thought. We'll see how it goes this year.

Family portraits remind me of Christmas newsletters. Most describe the year's accomplishments and highlights, a glimpse of the best side of us. I've never felt the need to write a Christmas newsletter, but if I wrote one this year, it might sound something like this: 

2013 has been pretty even-keeled for the Bairds, except for the various epidemics that went through the family. Fortunately, we all survived! Dad started his second year at the church. He continues to love his job, but somedays he comes home feeling burdened. Mom keeps up with the homeschooling and housekeeping, trying to make it all work with a spunky and independent two-year-old in the mix. And who can believe that our oldest turned ten this year! He is a wonderful big brother, though he shows signs of his growing need for independence by making biting remarks to his younger siblings (without always realizing it). All three girls are now sharing a room. This makes for fun and creative play... and a few fights. We're still working on potty-training the youngest, and our four-year-old throws less tantrums now, but he resists naps and likes to blame his little sister to cover his tracks. Nevertheless, we are blessed. We know that all good things come from God above-- our home, our job, our health, and our wonderful family and friends. We pray for you, and hope you pray for us too! Merry Christmas!

So, this is my family. Our hair sticks up, our clothes don't match, and we don't always wake up on the right side of the bed, but if you look closely, you'll see Christ in the center of the picture. And I admit, I prefer this kind of family portrait to one that looks polished and perfect!

Family for the Holidays

I had to stop to enjoy the moment.

Around my table were three generations and two cultures. For the first time, energetic Cantonese conversation mixed with cheerful English banter, filling the room with a joyful noise that I thought would never be possible.

I had assumed that my uncle and aunt would prefer Chinese food over ham and sweet potatoes. I had worried that dinner would be quiet and somber, like the dinners I remembered from my childhood. And I had thought that we would be uncomfortable with each other, feeling a void in years, languages, and beliefs.

But I was wrong. And I'm so glad I was wrong.

And I'm glad that God's Spirit prompted me to invite my family (the few who lived nearby) to my home for Thanksgiving. I was reaching out to the uncle I knew from my toddler years, but then didn't see for twenty years after moving to the United States. Then the last ten years, when my uncle lived just in the next town over, I still thought it someone else's (namely, my parents') responsibility to reach out to him. After all, I barely knew him. There was nothing that tied him to me except for our blood relation. He never did anything to reach to me, so what did I owe him?

Then we found out earlier this year that my uncle had cancer– not just one, but two forms of cancer. Something in me told me that I had waited too long. It was time to love him. God created families with a purpose, even if it is a purpose which I don't fully comprehend.

As soon as I was ready, I prayed for guidance in how to reconnect with my uncle and his family. Visiting them, buying them a gift... all those things didn't seem like the right thing to do. Then God told me, and though I had my doubts, I obeyed. And I was blessed with a wonderful Thanksgiving memory!

The holiday season is a time for celebrating family, but for many, that is not as easy as it sounds. You may have a parent, child, or sibling with whom you are not on speaking terms, or you may have family members who would rather bring up your differences every moment possible. Maybe it's the lack of family, or the death of a loved one. Ask God how you can find or give healing this year, and prepared to be pleasantly surprised.

Preparing for Advent

I know I said that I'll see you in December, but I wanted to provide links to some of my family's Christmas traditions, in case you are wanting to get started on December 1st!

Christmas Traditions

Our Favorite Christmas Stories

I will be spending my Saturday decorating and putting up socks. Happy Advent!

(And just a reminder that traditions can always be adjusted, or stopped all together. Traditions should bring joy and unity to your family, not stress. I'll write more on that later.)

Thanksgiving Blessings

Though I am weak, He is strong.

Though I am hateful, He is Love.

Though I am discontent, He satisfies.

Though I am weary, He is Rest.

Though I am self-centered, He is self-sacrificing.

Though I am pessimistic, He is Hope.

And that is why I can say, no matter what my situation, that I am thankful.

Philippians 4:11-13, one of my favorite Bible passages, is most appropriate for today:

Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all, and I'll see you in December!

Throwing in the Towel (and picking it up again)

I was done. 

Done with potty-traininig, done with the frustration, done with the messes.

"Potty! Potty, Mama!!"

Too late. My two-year-old consistently tells me AFTER the fact. And that was the last straw, because the result was a puddle in the dining room and a wet trail leading through the family room, down the hall, and to the bathroom.

"No more potty-training. I'm putting you back in diapers. I don't care anymore!" I shouted to no one in particular as I mopped up the mess.

I wasn't usually one to give up, but I was so fatigued. I was running on minimum sleep (yet again) but more than that, I felt that all my efforts were for nothing. And when one reaches that point, it's hard to get up in the mornings.

So I used cloth diapers for the rest of the day, and I was prepared to use them the next day, and the day after, and the day after that.

But after a rather decent night of sleep, I woke up to my husband's voice. 

"Good job! Good job going potty!"

Oh, of course, she goes for him, my cynical self thought. But a grain of hope had been planted, and my plan to give up had already gone awry.

My husband put our toddler in her training pants, and I had to choose. Do I try again, or do I use the diapers? I decided to go for it.

And as I knelt by the toilet, reading a book to my daughter as she sat and tried, I knew I had done the right thing. I had allowed the darkness of despair to overwhelm me. It had overshadowed the path so that I couldn't see past my nose. And all I needed was one grain of hope to glimmer and give me light again.

This morning, my little girl told me twice that she had to go to the potty. This is the first time that has happened, and it has only been nine days since I said I was done.

Good thing I didn't give up.

Touching Music

I still don't know why God created music. Everything else, I can see a practical purpose, but music... beauty seems to be its only purpose. And it's a beauty that easily translates into worship.

Yesterday, I directed the children's choir in our morning service. Eleven children, all ages ten and under, stood nervously on the steps of the stage. Smile!, I motioned to them. A few grinned back at me. When the music began, they took a deep breath, and sang as we had always rehearsed it. And though I could not see the congregation behind me, I heard their voices join ours.

By the end, tears were streaming down my face. The children, along with their wiggles and giggles, were so wonderful, innocent, and enthusiastic as they lead the church in song. At one point, as the children sang "and I lift my voice", I closed my eyes and my heart leaped in joy. It was the moment in conducting that I love the most, the moment when the music becomes tangible, so tangible that I can touch it. (Some of you think I'm crazy, but a few of you know what I'm talking about.) The music was like clay that I could shape and mold with ease. My hands moved as if I was painting a picture, and the picture I saw was one of angels in the heavens worshipping with us here on earth.

As I'm typing this now, my four-year-old is singing "Let everything that... let everything that... let everything that has breath praise the Lord!" as he plays in the other room. My heart leaps again, and I am glad for music.

A Different Holiday Season

Tonight, my friend treated me to a belated birthday dinner. As we entered the mall, I could already see it... the giant, shiny balls dangling from the draping, green garlands. 

"Oh no," I thought, "it's already started."

We strolled through the mall's center, and there it was-- a gigantic, humungous, gargantuan (should I go on?) Christmas tree, complete with jolly old St. Nicholas in front, child on his lap, ho-ho-hoing for the camera.

But what struck me the most were the giant presents around the tree. They were screaming to me, "More presents! Buy more presents!"

I promised that I would never rant on my blog, so I won't. But I am pleading with you:

Please don't let Christmas commercialism bulldoze through your Thanksgiving. 

In fact, don't let the food, the football, or family differences overshadow your Thanksgiving either. Take steps this year to make your holiday season different, by being more content, more forgiving, more grateful, and more focused on Him who gives us all things.

Thankful

Autumn is when my mind dwells on thankfulness, not because the United States formally celebrates Thanksgiving in November, but because the beauty of autumn stirs my soul. The bold reds and yellows mixed with the fading green, the variety of flavors from autumn fruits and vegetables, the relief from the summer heat, the simple beauty of migrating birds... they all remind me to thank the Maker. I walk down our street or glance out the window and I am filled with awe.

I was going to wait until Thanksgiving to post this, but there really is no need, when everyday is, in fact, a day of thanksgiving. It is my newest song, and I apologize again that you cannot hear the melody, but I haven't found a way to put audio on my blog, and I'm not ready to record myself on youtube.


The trees on fire with the season's change

A chill is in the air

We grab coats and scarves to wear

The morning fog smells of autumn rain

The darkness lingers longer

As winter's voice grows stronger

And I am thankful for house and home

The love and laughter warms my heart and soul

The children play as they learn and grow

I am thankful

Oh so thankful

The limbs hang low with their treasure trove

We celebrate the harvest

What the Lord bestowed upon us

The miracles that the earth can hold

That from a tiny seed

Springs forth a mighty tree

And I am thankful for food that grows

How a meal can nourish body and soul

Shared with friends as they come and go

I am thankful

Oh so thankful

For the sunshine as well as the storms

For the cold days as well as the warm

There are countless gifts that I don't deserve

I've done nothing of worth

His arms around me when I'm worn and frayed

We sink into our bed

Rest and peace upon our heads

And wake to greet another dawning day

With strength to rise again

And joy to be content

And I am thankful for life renewed

For daily mercies profound and true

A love that fills me through and through

'Til I'm changing too

I am changing too

And thankful

Superheroes We Are Not

My husband made superhero T-shirts for our family last Christmas. We each have a superhero-alter-ego (mine is MegaMama), and now we can proudly pose with our emblems on our chests.

But... we're not super. My husband and I have our bad days, when we are snappy and impatient with each other. We are not always on the same page. We are not always in the mood to serve each other.

My kids are not extraordinarily well-behaved or good-looking. They are not wunderkinds on their way to Carnegie Hall or American Idol.

In fact, my kids whine when I say "School time!", and the day after a holiday is like herding cats (which I've heard is extremely difficult.) But put in a video, and they are sitting on the couch in ten seconds flat.

They'll eat their veggies, but not without first making a face, and I have a daughter who holds the world record for 'longest time it took to eat one bite of spinach'.

They often leave their beds unmade (and I often forget to remind them). They leave toys and clothes on the floor. They forget to flush the toilet.

They sometimes wear mismatching socks and mismatching clothes. We go to church with their hair still sticking up and food still on their face.

And they fight, at least once a day, over the most petty of issues. They compete over who can finish their math work first, who can hold their breath longer, who has the most Legos.

My family is normal. We have our daily struggles, just like everyone else.

I just thought you should know.

Butterflies and Chrysalides

(photo courtesy of wikipedia.org)

My second oldest daughter found a treasure on Saturday, what looked like a funny piece of wood attached to our fence. I knew immediately that it was a butterfly chrysalis, though I did not know the species. After a bit of research, we discovered that it was a swallowtail's chrysalis, due to its distinct use of silk as a little harness.

I scrolled through the website (whatsthatbug.com), and I noticed that not one other species formed a chrysalis exactly like that of the swallowtail. (Pictured to the right is the swallowtail chrysalis, and below it is the chrysalis of the monarch butterfly. Beautiful, aren't they?) Some hung, some rested along a flat surface, and a few had a silk harness, but not one other chrysalis matched that of the swallowtail, which is what made it so easy to identify.

(photo courtesy of wikimedia.org)

Most people think of something very simple when they picture a butterfly. They are probably familiar with the life cycle of this insect, but do they know how even in their similarities, butterflies are amazingly different? I myself was astounded by the variety I found among this species, and as I studied the photos, I remembered Jesus's words in Matthew 6:26b, "Are you not much more valuable than they?"

Yes, we are. If butterflies are so individually unique, think of all the people in the world, each made by their loving Creator. He knows us, and cherishes us more than butterflies.

WOW!

Over-the-Hill

Thirty-five.

In two days, I turn thirty-five years old.

According to our present-day culture, I'm almost over-the-hill. 

Magazines love to print articles about "the richest people who are not yet twenty" or "thirty under thirty to watch". The more we see photos of famous, rich, young people, the more we think that we all need to prove something before the age of thirty. College grads now want to be the next Mark Zuckerberg (co-founder of Facebook, age 29, net worth of 19 billion dollars), Keira Knightley (actress and model who earned 5 million dollars for 'The Pirates of the Caribbean' and was nominated for an Oscar at the age of 20), or Justin Bieber (singer, "discovered" on Youtube at the age of 14).

The motto is this: succeed quickly, live well, retire early.

It's hard to compete with that. And some would say that my potential was wasted. My "prime of life" was spent bearing children and homemaking and I'm only getting older, slower, and more wrinkled by the day. But I say this: I'm only just getting started! There was a time when I wanted to be like the Marks, Keiras and Justins of the world, but today I look to these well-known people for inspiration.

- Laura Ingalls Wilder was 64 when she published the first of the 'Little House' books.

- Julia Child was almost 40 when she learned to cook.

- Mother Teresa opened a school at age 38, and won the Nobel Peace price at the age of 69.

- Grandma Moses started painting at the age of 76 and painted everyday for the next 25 years!

What I admire most about them is not the fact that they found success at an older age, but that these people had been successful all along in how they chose to approach life. The world only recognized it later and dubbed them as "note-worthy" people.

And this very short list doesn't even include the many unknowns out there who live life heroically, selflessly changing other people's lives for the better! I have friends in their seventies who organize and lead missions trips and couples who are done raising their own children but continue to raise many adopted children. Their faces will never grace the cover of 'People' magazine, and they will never have 1 million dollars, but they are amazing people, definitely people I want to watch.

Thirty-five. 

The older I get, the more I realize that birthdays are not about white hairs, niches, and bucket lists. It's about being ready for the adventures that God has in store for me, whether I'm running with the wind or inching along with a walker.

With God, there is never an over-the-hill. 

On Bucket Lists and Halloween Parties

Many people have a bucket list. My friend Jessica wanted to milk a cow before she turned thirty, and a week ago she got her wish.

I guess there is a certain sense of satisfaction in making a goal and accomplishing it, but I don't really have a bucket list. I'd like to visit China and Australia someday, I'd like to learn the cello and the harp someday... but I don't feel like I really, really need to do those things. At this point, I'd be happy just to leave the state or play the piano for an hour. Or maybe I'm not as ambitious as some.

Anyway, there is one thing I can say now that I have done at least once, and that is 'attend a Halloween party'. Yep, in my nearly thirty-five years of living, I have never been to a Halloween party, partly because I'm not great at dressing up, partly because Halloween is not my favorite holiday, but mainly because I DON'T LIKE BIG PARTIES. (Oops, was I getting worked up? Sorry.)

Back to my story. Our band was asked by our church's college ministry to play a few songs at their annual party. And of course, we had to be in costume. I thought through the clothes I had and remembered a Chinese outfit I had inherited from a relative. Perfect. Well, it wasn't exactly a costume, since I'm already Chinese, but it served its purpose. Then I found out that the party was going to be held at the Lopez's. They are the couple my husband and I counseled before their wedding this summer. Perfect again. I know them and I know their house. And then my sister-in-law and mother-in-law agreed to take my five kids trick-or-treating. Perfect again! To be kid-free at a party means I can focus on performing and mingling, rather than chasing the toddler from one danger hot spot to another.

The stage was set, but I still wasn't entirely comfortable. Remember, I don't like big parties. I don't even like medium-sized parties. I don't like going up to people I've never met before and giving them my name. I don't like loud music, small talk, and too many people squeezed into too tiny a space. But get this, right before the party started, Jason, the pastor in charge, gathered everyone in leadership for a short meeting. Before we prayed, he reminded us the purpose of the party and said, "If you're not a big mingler, that's okay. Whatever your comfort level is, do that. If you're a one-on-one kind of person, awesome. Be one-on-one."

It's funny, that though I didn't ever need permission to not be a party animal at a party, I felt much freer after getting permission. I was able to be myself without guilt and contribute to the party in my own fashion. I talked to people I already knew, but hadn't connected with in a while. I helped a young man having face paint woes. And though I didn't go directly up to a new person, I did meet new people through other friends.

Then the band played, prizes were announced (my husband was nominated for 'best homemade costume' wearing a Viking hat I had crocheted), and I returned home tired but happy. For the first time in thirty-five years, I had fun at a party. I didn't hide at the food table (okay, maybe I did a little, but only long enough to eat a few chips, and that was because I hadn't had dinner) and I didn't busy myself with kids (before I had children, I borrowed other people's children). And I can honestly say that I'm looking forward to next year's party. And now I have a year to plan my costume!

Maybe that's why I don't a bucket list. Sometimes we are surprised by the unexpected. The little things become the big things. And there are too many things in life that I don't know I want to do... until I've done them!

Niche-Finding

Etsy, Facebook, Instagram, Kickstarter... with the Internet and smart phones, there are now more groups out there than I can count! And while my artsy friends, crafty friends, savvy friends, and musical friends are announcing their talents to the world, I feel out of the loop. I had a short-lived account on Linked-in (but it was pointless, because I don't need business connections), and then so-and-so asked me to join Twitter (which I still don't understand), and for a while, I did play around with the idea of selling things on Etsy (but really, do I have the time?) I see on Facebook how old friends have gone on to become models, opera singers, pilots, photographers... and me? What am I doing? Where's MY niche?!

Back in my college days, I thought classical music was my niche. I loved singing and playing the piano, but I found that I was not content singing only opera, or playing only Beethoven. I tried to branch out into jazz, I started writing my own songs, I even wanted to write film music.

(side story: One day, I saw a spread in a music magazine showing the top twenty film composers gathered in one room, and there was not one woman in that photo. I told my friend that I wanted to be the first woman to be a part of that group. You know how the story ends.)

My performance friends told me to pursue performance, my musicology friends told me to pursue musicology, but they didn't know me well enough. By graduation day, I found little motivation to chase after these goals and titles. Neither did I want to work at the outdoor school that had offered me a job, or teach piano full-time, or accompany choirs in the city.

I wanted to be a wife, a mother, a homemaker. I worked after graduating, but I no longer pursued like I used to. I still wanted to belong somewhere, but I knew I had to wait and be content with where God had me for the moment.

Soon after, I became a teacher, started leading worship at church, rediscovered the crafts of collaging and crocheting, played at a few weddings, but still, none of those were my niche. Then I met my husband (have I ever shared that story with you?) and became a wife and mother. But still, still, I hadn't found my niche, at least not yet, because diapers and dishes are definitely NOT my niche, and because God made me a multi-faceted woman with creativity to share.

It is only now, after ten years of motherhood, eleven-and-one-fourth years of marriage, and countless trials (in the sense of trying, not suffering) that I can say I have found my niche! (Hal-le-lu-jah! ) For my love of choral music, I have my little church children's choir. We may never get pass one-part singing, but I love it! For teaching, I have of course my five pupils at home. A few select friends receive a hand-made card or crocheted baby hat to celebrate them. And though no one will hear my songs outside of various living rooms, I can play classical, jazzy, folksy, whatever I please. And this year, my husband and I have started counseling engaged couples!

Sometimes I wonder if I would like to start a bakery like Ana in Stranger Than Fiction. Or maybe someday I'll volunteer at the local library and work to develop a program that brings seniors and young people together. Or maybe I'll go back to school and get my masters' degree in choral conducting. Who knows?!

I don't need to part of a group to find my niche, because my niche is truly mine and mine alone. It has no name and it is not publicized or well-known. It will be ever-changing, as God is ever changing me.

Growing Older

So fitting to write about growing older after my last post! My thirty-fifth birthday is less than a month away, and I apologize if my posts become more self-reflective than usual (if that's at all possible). It's just that birthdays are never what I imagine them to be.

When I was ten, I didn't want anything to change. Later that year, my family moved across the country.
When I was fourteen, I thought sixteen would solve all my problems.
When I turned sixteen, I thought eighteen signified that I was ready for the world.
When I turned eighteen, I thought I would have all the answers by the age of twenty.
Then, what a shock when at the age of twenty-one I still didn't have all the answers(!)
I got married before I expected, became a mother before I expected, and spent my thirtieth year pregnant, working twenty-five hours a week while my husband tried to find work, and moving in with my in-laws. 
And now this... 

White hairs! When I look in the mirror, I see locks that are rich and black (though oftentimes frizzy). But when I lift up a small portion of hair from the back of my head, I see not one, not two, but at least ten strands of white hair! (okay, maybe I exaggerate a little, but I definitely see at least four strands of white.) I can't imagine what people must see when they stand behind me.

I do think that one sure sign of a woman's confidence in herself is her ability to grow her hair gray. Those with lighter hair can do so with relative ease, but white hair shine like a neon light in my raven hair. When I had a few white hairs, I left them in, allowing them to sparkle in a 'joie de vivre' sort of way. Now that I'm finding more and more white hairs on my head, I have to resist the urge to dye my hair, or spend an hour in front of the mirror hunting down each and every white strand.

Is this the year to let my gray show? Can I face thirty-five (though it is still very young, according to many) with a renewed outlook, so I can face forty, fifty, and sixty with grace and a sense of adventure?

Not Retired From Life

Imagine a retirement home. 

Now fill it with music. 

In one room, you peek in and see a young girl taking a violin lesson from one of the home's residents. In a larger room, teenagers are listening to a lecture on opera given by another resident. Boys play soccer outside, while a barbershop quartet echo from somewhere in the building and a solo trumpet sends out its jazzy melody through an open window.

This is what the film Quartet is all about-- people who are retired from the limelight and mowing the lawn, but not retired from life. Though they could not play or sing like they used to, their love for music and sharing music was stronger than the criticisms from the public eye or the "up-and-coming". And here's a plus-- all the musicians in the film besides the four leads are real musicians from symphonies, operas, bands, and choruses. I had chosen this film because I love music and "old" people (and Maggie Smith), but I hadn't expected such beauty. Rarely am I so deeply moved by a film. 

It brought to mind another favorite film of mine, a documentary called Young at Heart. This movie follows a choir of octogenarians as they perform, prepare for a concert, and experience a loss. While Quartet is as romantic as Young at Heart is gutsy, both films shine because they portray the older generation in a positive light. These are the people who teach us. They inspire us. They remind us what is most important while we are still young and spry. These are the people like my friend Ed. During World War II, he worked on jet planes. Now eighty-nine years old, his doctor tells him that he has heart failure and needs open heart surgery if he wishes to live another ten years. But Ed told the doctor no, because he's not afraid. He's ready to go Home to be with his wife. And while he's here on earth, he uses his remaining days to make people laugh and write letters to politicians to try to change the world for the better for my generation. I know couples in their seventies and eighties who still go on foreign missions trips. This is true living.

Though movies like Quartet are ideal (after all, the residents were living on an old British estate where money was no object), their vision is not impossible. Maybe there is a home out there like the one in the film. Or maybe someday, what I saw in the film will be the foundation for something I establish. Whichever, as I grow older, I never want to stop making music. As my children grow older, I never want to stop reminding them to look to their elders. And as my parents grow older, I never want to stop being the bridge between them and the younger generation.

*Note for those interested in seeing Quartet- Though the film is beautifully written and visually clean, it is rated PG-13 for swearing and sexual humor.

Charlie and Sarah, Sarah and Charlie

I've mentioned my friend Sarah in two of my last posts, and recently found out that her husband has started a blog to share their story. His writing is deeply moving, and the grace of God in their lives is more than profound. With Sarah and Charlie's permission, I am publishing the link to Charlie's blog here because their story is definitely worth reading.

For those of you who don't know Sarah and Charlie, you would do a double-take if you saw them together. Charlie is tall-- well over 6 feet-- and Sarah is short-- she doesn't even reach the 5-foot mark on the growth chart. Her height is due to her illness (you can read more about it on Charlie's blog) but it hasn't stopped her from anything. My favorite picture of Sarah is of her with her big guitar belting out worship songs on a Sunday morning. Her voice certainly makes up for her lack in size. Charlie is also a musician (he plays everything!) and a true man of integrity. If something is against God's truth, Charlie lets you know, but not because he is a loud and outspoken man, but because he knows it is the right thing to do. He speaks occasionally on Sundays or Thursdays (our evening service) and almost always is playing drums or bass with the worship team.

When I first found out that Sarah and Charlie were courting, I was not surprised. They were, in every sense of the word, 'perfect' for each other. And I'm sure Charlie knew what he was getting into when he asked Sarah to marry him, though he could have never imagined their first few years of married life being as it had been. Apart from serving at our church, Charlie works long hours at Whole Foods and juggles caring for their two beautiful children. Parenthood, work, and pain (both physical and emotional) have tired them out. They are not as spunky and energetic as they once were, but they will both stop to ask you how you are doing and how they can pray for you.

Enough of my writing. Go read Charlie's blog. You will be blessed.