God and Dishes

When I was a young teen, I suddenly decided one day to wash the dishes for my mom while she was out (this was in the day before we had a dishwasher). Surprisingly, I had never washed the dishes before. My parents never taught me, or made me.

But this one day, when I saw the dishes piled in the kitchen sink, I thought it would be a nice surprise for my mom. Most likely I was prompted by a recent Sunday school lesson, something about "honoring your parents." So I did my best to wash everything and put it in the drying rack, then I waited for my mom to come home and notice.

It didn't take long for her to spot the clean dishes. 

I waited for her to come and ask me about them, which she did. But when I told her that I had washed them for her, she didn't say "thank you" as I expected her to. She said, "They're still greasy. You didn't do it right."

And I didn't wash dishes for my mom for a long time after that.

This was the memory that suddenly popped into my head as I washed the dishes this morning. I don't know why. But I see a two-fold lesson here:

1) Praise a child for doing right. There are times when quality matters, but what is more important is that the child is choosing to obey, to take initiative, or to make the attempt at something that is difficult. Rather than focusing on how well the child did the job, praise him/her for doing it to the best of his/her ability.

2) Our Father in heaven loves it when we obey Him. We hesitate because we worry about failing, but God asks us to take the first step in obedience, and He promises to guide us the rest of the way. He is the perfect Father, and He never criticizes us for not doing a good-enough job. Rather, He's the Father who asks you to do the dishes, then stands with you at the sink, gets His hands dirty, and cleans three plates for every spoon you clean (and the rest of the kitchen besides!)

"I need help!"

Ever since she started walking at eight months, my youngest has always acted older than her age. If she sees me vacuuming, she wants to vacuum. If I'm cutting vegetables, she wants to cut vegetables. She wants to do EVERYTHING that her siblings do.

So usually, when she insists on doing something "all by myself", I let her try, if it's not dangerous. This may mean that her shoes are on the wrong feet and her shirt is backwards (and I'm practicing my patience as she is taking soooo long to do each task), but I can see that she is growing and learning.

But there are times when I KNOW that she cannot do something, simply because she doesn't have the dexterity or the understanding at the age of three! And yet, she insists on trying to do it herself (and there is no convincing that girl.) So I let her give her all. Sometimes I'll leave the room (my daughter tells me "Go away!") or I'll just wait nearby. Then after a few minutes, I hear "Mama, I need help!"

And aren't we just the same with our Father in Heaven?

God knows that things will be difficult for us. He knows that parenting, or getting sick, or losing a job, or loving a neighbor, is a difficult task that we cannot tackle alone. So He does not leave us to do everything on our own, and yet, oftentimes, we insist on doing it "all by myself!"

And how long does it take for us to realize that we don't have the strength or the understanding? How long do I keep trying before I finally pray "God, I need help!"?

My Father is always right by me, always ready and willing to do the heavy lifting. In ALL things, big and small, He never leaves me to struggle by myself, if I only ask Him for help!

The Big "What-Ifs"

In the past two years...

a friend lost a husband,

a friend lost a wife,

a friend lost a child,

a friend lost a parent to cancer,

and a friend was diagnosed with breast cancer.

This is basically my list of the Big "What-Ifs". 

Other what-ifs aren't so scary. My husband could lose his job–no biggie, been there, done that. Our house could burn down; that's just stuff, stuff comes and stuff goes.

But to lose my husband, my child, my parent, or my health... I have to ask myself, "Would I start doubting God's love and faithfulness? Would I turn from him? or doubt his existence? How would I respond?" And these things could happen to me. Four of these five friends are my age. 

Seeing my friends go through these heart-breaking, soul-crushing times have been the most difficult thing I've ever experienced. The only thing harder would be experiencing them myself. 

But–if this is any comfort to people going through a hardship right now–it's because of my friends that I'm no longer afraid of the Big "What-Ifs." 

Because I've seen my friends go through these times, and come out the other side.

Because I've seen how their faith carried them along when they had no strength left.

Because I've seen our church family surround my friends with love and care.

And because I've seen the Savior cover them in His wings and draw them near, even when He felt the most distant and silent.

There are some changes coming in the next few months for my family, and thinking about the unknown always causes a ball of anxiety to collect in the pit of my stomach. 

But I don't have to be afraid. God is the faithful Shepherd, and through green pastures or the Valley of the Shadow of Death, He is always with me.

New Year, New Fruit

As I thought about this blog post, I realized that every January, I write something that starts with, "I don't really believe in New Year's resolutions, but..."

And it's true. I don't believe in New Year's resolutions, only because I don't believe that there is anything more magical about making a life change on January 1st than making a change on any other day of the year.

But there is something about the "tick tock" of 11:59, December 31st becoming the "tick tock" of 12:00, January 1st that makes a person think. We all hope that life will be better in the New Year–not worse, not the same, but better. The change in number marks the passage of time, and it should mark a change in us. As Ecclesiastes 3:1 (ESV) says, "For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven." The New Year is a new season. It's a new page, both literally and figuratively.

So, I was thinking about my 2021. What do I want it look like? In 2020, I have had more friends lose loved ones. My friend Sarah passed away on December 28th. She was a person I looked up to; despite enduring physical pain for most of her life, she was a beautiful, joyful soul, an amazing singer, and the best mother to her two little ones and best wife to her husband. I've also had many blessings in 2020–wonderful memories with my family, personal creative growth, and spiritual growth too. So how do I continue in this growth? In light of Sarah's passing, how do I best use the time I have left in my life? 

This is what came to mind:

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance [patience], kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22-23 ESV)

In the past, I've prayed for more love, more joy, more patience (especially patience!) and whenever I acted unlovingly or grumpily or impatiently, I just prayed for more love, more joy, more patience! I thought that was what I needed. And really, eight of the nine things listed as the fruit of the Spirit are all things I want more of, all except... self-control.

I don't know how you feel about self-control, but it always felt a little out-of-place to me on this list. It just sounds more... blah. In a Bible passage that gives me warm fuzzies when I read it, self-control seems like something Paul just tacked on. "Oh yeah, and self-control. I'll just put it here with these other things." Love and joy and everything else make me feel more free, and self-control sounds so restrictive.

But this time, as I meditated on Galatians 3:22-23, I had this thought.

When I think of the times I've acted unlovingly or grumpily or impatiently, my regret afterwards was usually, "I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have said that." All the times I've yelled at the kids, it wasn't more patience I needed, but more self-control! There is a reason Paul put self-control on the list!

I told my husband about this revelation. He got so excited about it! Why do we think of self-control in terms of how much dessert we eat on Christmas Eve or how much we drink on New Year's Eve? God practices self-control... all the time! If He didn't, all His power would be unleashed on us! And Jesus, He is described as a man of meekness. What is meekness? Strength under control. Jesus is also self-controlled!

And so I'll be making 2021 the Year of Self-Control. If I can control myself better, then I will also have more fruit of the Spirit! That thought actually gives me warm fuzzies!

How about you? Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Which would you like to focus on this year?

The Light in the Dark

I’m sheltering with nine people – my husband and our eight kids. By God’s grace, we have yet to have a major blowup (though no shortage of minor ones), and by God’s provision (through many kind friends), we have yet to run out of toilet paper. 

My main job right now is to break up the humdrum of our day-to-day sameness by making things “interesting” – what interesting meal can I make with what’s in the refrigerator? what interesting crafts and games can we come up with? what interesting virtual playdates and trips can I schedule for the afternoon? So far, I’ve baked apple strudel, we’ve made popsicle stick catapults, and we’ve learned a new line dance.

And that’s been the easy part! The greater difficulty is fielding the kids’ questions.

“Is anyone coming over today?”

“When can we go the library?”

“How much longer will this go on for?!?!?”

I try my best to answer their questions, doing what I can to calm their restlessness, and their hearts. Then back to “cheerleader” mode I go! Who wants to line dance?

The truth is, behind my bold front, I am just as uncertain as my children are. I don’t have the answers. I feel anxious and unsettled too. And so I go to my father, my Heavenly Father. 

James 1:17 (ESV) tells us that “every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.”

During this time of uncertainty, one thing is certain. God knows what lies ahead. He is sustaining us through this time with His gifts of peace and love. He is our solace and aid. And for Him, this isn’t some bold front. He truly is, and always has been, our steady foundation, especially during shaky times. He is our hope, our light in the darkness. 

And this is no flickering candle, no glimmer in the distance, no ordinary light. This is a light that “shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5 ESV). Another favorite verse of mine says, “Even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you” (Psalm 139:12 ESV).

This feels like a time of darkness, but remember this: it is not darkness to the Father of lights. Take some time today to sit with your Heavenly Father and bask in the warmth of His light.

Ploughing Through

Lately, I haven't felt inspired in the kitchen. Seeing the beautiful colors in the produce aisles doesn't excite me like they used to. Even my usual sure-fire solution of checking out cookbooks from the library hasn't motivated me. And watching old episodes of Master Chef Junior only makes me feel more incompetent. 

But I keep cooking, because I have to feed my hoard of children. Spaghetti. Burrito night. Chicken stir-fry. At least that's better than fast food and less expensive than prefab meals.

I realized this morning, as I was whipping up some boring ol' scrambled eggs for breakfast, that what I'm doing it with cooking is exactly what I do with any creative endeavor. Whether it's drawing, writing, or playing music, there are times when you just "have to" do it. Creative professionals always say, "You can't wait for inspiration to hit. Your craft must become a habit, a job, a task you do even when you don't feel like it." You don't let un-inpiration stop you; you plough through it. And if you draw one thing a day, you slowly get better. If you write or edit a page a day, you do finish your novel. Somedays, you feel like you played 'Rhapsody in Blue' better than Gershwin himself; other days, you feel like you barely managed to play your scales.

The same applies to our Christian walk. In 2016 and 2017, I was in Bible studies and giving talks. So far this year, I have done none of that. I don't have the energy to ponder the deeper things of God, only the little things. And that's okay. As long as I'm faithfully walking with my Lord, I'm in good hands. He doesn't ask that I be always energetically running or joyfully skipping by His side, He only asks that I follow. 

So I'm crawling after Him right now, ploughing through fatigue, selfish thoughts, discouragement, and un-inspiration. But I know that He will provide the energy and the joy. He will draw me into the deeper things. He will be my inspiration.

Humble Like a Child

I am fascinated by babies.

I love seeing their personalities unfold, starting from Day 1.

I am awed by the way their brains learn and grow, and amused when their bodies can't keep up.

And every time I observe a baby in her helplessness–needing me to feed, clean, soothe, and love her–I clearly see a reflection of my own relationship with my Heavenly Father.

Take today, for example.


My youngest eagerly wants to grow up and copy her siblings in everything. She loves sitting at the table with us and eating her baby cereal; sometimes she is so impatient, she'll cry in between bites. This morning, as I held the food up to her open mouth, she grabbed the spoon and tried to feed herself. She did okay (though she ended up with cereal all over her face, hands, and feet even!) and happily chewed on the spoon and whatever cereal was left on it. I then tried to take the spoon from her, but her grip on it clearly told me, "No! You can't take it from me, Mama!" She didn't understand that I wanted to take the spoon only to give her more cereal! She was happy with an empty spoon, and cried when I took away what she thought was the best! 

As this was happening, I was chuckling to myself, but also thinking of how often I have fought to keep something that I thought was good, when God wanted only to give me something better. Time and time again I think I know best, or I try to be self-reliant, when I am really more like a baby than I want to admit. I need to learn that I am not, and cannot be, fully independent. I am created to need God. I am created to delight in Him as my baby delights in me. I am created to be fully at peace only when I am resting in my Father's arms. 

Jesus says, "Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 18:3-4).

And that is easier said than done, especially for me.

I did figure out a solution to the spoon problem. I use two spoons, so the baby can contentedly chew on one while I feed her with the other.

Maybe that's what God does with me too sometimes. He lets me hold on to my little treasures, while He continues to give me what I truly need. Which shows you just how much my gracious Heavenly Father loves me.

Trading My Sorrows

My eyes filled with tears as I watched the couple slow dance to 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow'. Ben, gently swaying with his arms around his wife, closed his eyes for a moment. He was fighting back tears too.

It was in that moment that I saw the pain amidst the joy, the duality that defines so much of Ben's life right now as he cares for Judy, who has Alzheimer's disease. He cherishes every smile, even when Judy isn't fully aware of her surroundings. He cherishes every word, even when Judy doesn't fully understand the conversation. And even as Ben lives with this deep pain, God has filled him with a new joy and peace that cannot be explained. When Ben is not with Judy, he is ministering to families and teaching others about Alzheimer's. 

Later, when I had a chance, I asked Ben how he has learned to manage the daily sadness of slowly losing his wife–if he has a routine or Bible verse that helps him get through the feeling when it overwhelms him.

"I don't have any one thing," Ben replied in his quiet way. "But I have learned to let myself feel the emotions."

The words struck me. I had learned at a young age to stifle certain emotions. Strength, I thought, lay in the ability to push through fear, doubt, despair, and sadness and tough it out. Why cry when I could do something about the situation? Why feel sadness when sadness hurts so much?

But as I recently discovered, sometimes crying is pushing through. Last summer, when I found out that I was expecting Baby #8, fear crept into my heart. But I didn't address the fear; I only told myself, "God wants to teach you something. So find the lesson." Then the baby came, and I found my fear realized as I struggled to manage everything. But I told myself, "I can do this. I just have to try harder." All the while, I became buried deeper and deeper in my dark emotions, sometimes lashing out at my husband or children, sometimes beating myself up for not doing enough. Joy and peace seemed elusive. I felt like everything was going to fall apart if I stopped moving. But it was really me that was falling apart. And all I was really doing was putting duct tape on a bursting pipe. I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong… until I allowed myself to cry.* If you've ever watched Pixar's Inside Out, you would understand.

And I discovered that crying goes beyond a psychological or physiological need to expel pain. Whenever I try to avoid feeling loss or pain, I am really trying to hold onto self-reliance. I put on a good front. I tell people "I'm fine." And I keep trying to fix the problem. I try not to feel the pain in the hope that by the time the problem is fixed, I can move on to happier emotions. But in doing so, I also keep a death grip on my pride. Which means my hands are closed, and I am unable to receive help, or anything, from God. 

All this time, I kept asking God to reveal to me what He wanted me to learn, not realizing that I was unable to learn it. That was, until I cried. Until I humbled myself and let go. Until I admitted that I couldn't do it on my own.

I would have found this in the Bible too if I had thought to look. My friend Susan (thank you, Susan!) reminded me that centuries before me, the authors of the Psalms cried out in despair and hopelessness, sounding almost blasphemous as they accused God of abandoning them. David, in Psalm 13, wrote

How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?

How long will you hide your face from me?

How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart?

How long will my enemy triumph over me?

Look on me and answer, O Lord my God.

Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;

my enemy will say, "I have overcome him," and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

Notice, though, how David ended his song. 

But I trust in your unfailing love; 

my heart rejoices in your salvation.

I will sing to the Lord, for he has been good to me.

David did not just cry out to feel better. He didn't cry out to the sky just to release pent-up emotions. He traded his fears and sadness for peace and joy.

And that is what Ben is learning. And me also. By being honest with myself and admitting my weakness, I find strength, real strength. By allowing myself to fully feel the heartache, I can then be healed. And I've felt joy, peace, and patience return to me, though my situation hasn't changed much. 

Yes, there is a release when you cry, but what's even better is when you can release the emotions and the whole situation to the One who can do something about it.

(*See the post from May 11, When Mamas Need a Good Cry.) 

Let there be light!

Wow, this post becomes more relevant to me with each passing day, even though I wrote the first draft almost one month ago.

At that time, I was 39 weeks pregnant and feeling more discouraged, more tired, more sore, and more anxious that I had ever felt while pregnant. I was having strong contractions on and off for several weeks and all I really wanted was to have my baby, but at the same time, the fear of labor pains and my new life afterwards loomed over me at all hours of the day and night.

All I could do was try to stay busy. I excused myself from the family to run to the Chinese grocery store (Chinese food– my biggest craving) and heard this song coming through my van's CD player:

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth

The earth was without form and void and darkness was over the face of the deep

And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters

And God said, "Let there be light"

And there was light

The lyrics are straight from Genesis 1:1-3. As I sat listening to the soothing melody, I was reminded that God is the ultimate Creator. He has been there since the beginning, creating and holding the universe together. And He was still creating now, in me! There was a whole new person inside me! How amazing that I can be a part of God's creation process.

And even more encouraging was the fact that God brings order to chaos, light to the darkness. I picture God's great hand giving shape and meaning to the turmoil and confusion of the uncreated universe. Similarly, anytime I am feeling unsteady and fearful, God guides me through it.

And guided me He did.

That very night, just a few hours after I started writing this post, my water broke. I then experienced my hardest, most painful labor ever because the baby was posterior facing. But after laboring through the dark night, the baby was born at 6:49am, March 4th, healthy and whole. And how perfectly fitting that her name is Nariah, which means 'God is my light'!

But we are still in the midst of the chaos. Nariah is having trouble nursing, so I pumping around the clock, supplementing, and trying to teach her to like the breast again, which also means I can't pay as much attention to my other children or keep up with daily chores. I still have moments of darkness, even more so now because sometimes I feel like I'm failing as a mother, to the baby and all my other children...

Then I remember God's words, "Let there be light!" And I am reminded (again and again) that this present darkness is not forever, not when God is in charge. I may feel inadequate as a mother of eight, I may not know the reason for the timing of this baby, I may want to think that God has made a mistake (or more likely, that I have made a mistake), but those are all NOT true. God is sovereign. God is present. God is orchestrating all the details of my life, and Nariah's young life too.

So be encouraged as I am being encouraged. Maybe you are in your first trimester, or your 39th week. Or maybe you just lost a child. Or you are going through illness. We all have periods of darkness, when we wonder if God has abandoned us or if this time will never end. Remember that God was there at the beginning and that He is in charge. Only He can make something out of nothing and create beauty out of the ugly.

One more thing, if you are looking for uplifting music with lyrics straight from the Bible, check out Seeds Family Worship (and hear the song mentioned above, 'God is Creator' from Genesis 1:1-3). I am so glad my friend Ariel gifted our family with the Character of God CD. Listening to the Seeds Family albums are also a great way to memorize Bible verses!

God With Me

I am tired.

Physically tired. Emotionally tired. Mentally tired.

But I am joyful and grateful. A friend asked me on Friday, "How can you be so calm during all this?!"

Well, it's been a bit of a journey. This is a situation I would have never expected to find myself in.  But let me begin at the beginning.

A few months ago, my husband and I began to notice a strange stench in our bedroom, a foul smell that came from under the house. My husband tried all he could to locate the cause of the odor, but could find nothing. Since we had done all we could, we called the landlord and told him about the smell. We also had to start sleeping on the sofa bed in the living room because the smell  was bothersome and overwhelming at times. We wondered if it was a leak, or mold, or worse.

One plumber came. He could not find a leak. Maybe it is the rain water? he said. I told him about the smell. He said, it must be the rain water.

A restoration specialist came to test for mold. How do I get under the bedroom? he asked. There was no entry that we knew of, I told him. Only these two little vents. Then I can't do anything, the man said. And he left.

Finally, workers came to fix the possible rain water problem. They dug trenches in the front yard to lay a French drain, and they jackhammered the cement in the backyard to level the ground. After two days of noise and demolition, the workers told me, the only way to see what the smell under the house was to go through the bedroom floor. I called my husband and he came home right away to help empty out our bedroom.

We then tried to manage normal living in a house full of furniture and clothes. We continued with school. I went to my prenatal appointment and baked cookies and made split pea soup for dinner. But then one of the workers came to me and asked, Do you want to see what we found under the bedroom floor? I wasn't sure I wanted to, but I followed him to my bedroom.

Under where my bed had once been was basically a pond of muck. Toilet paper and scum floated about. An old, broken pipe stuck out,  the only clue to this mystery. We stood staring into the hole in the floor, flabbergasted and speechless. 

The only solution was for my family to live elsewhere for a few days while the workers shut off the water and fixed the pipes. And that is where we are in the story today.

"How can you be so calm, Rita?!" my friend asked.

Calm. The calmness she saw was an answer to prayer.

My friend didn't know how months before I had been searching daily on Craigslist for rental houses that could accommodate our large family, all the while worrying about the increase in rent. I wanted to pack and move immediately, if only to escape my present  circumstance.

She didn't know about my prayers to keep my baby safe, and for the many times I almost panicked because I couldn't remember when I last felt the baby kick. Then I prayed specifically for a flutter or some sign that the baby was okay, just to calm my heart. 

She didn't know about the night I felt so helpless and anxious that I just cried in bed. I called out to God for peace. And that whatever happened, that I would trust Him through the situation.

He has answered my prayer, times a hundred.

The problem under the house may be a major inconvenience, but it is fixable and not the danger we had imagined. We did not lose our home. We did not lose our belongings. We will not need to move after all.

It has not rained in eight days. The surprisingly warm and sunny weather has only aided in the clean-up of the unwanted water. 

Our friends Jason and Susan enthusiastically welcomed us into their home and said that we could stay as long as we need. I've been able to cook and do laundry. My children have been playing with their children. I can relax and feel at home because of their hospitality.  

We are not sick, in pain, or suffering in any way. My baby is 26 weeks old now and healthy. I feel her kick when I play the cello or sing.

So, this hasn't been the holiday season I wished for, but I have come through this time of uncertainty with a peace that goes beyond the twinkling lights and merry holiday music. 2017 was not the year I had expected it to be. Never would I have thought that I would one day be pregnant with my eighth child and living in my friend's house. But I see the way Emmanuel, 'God with us', has walked with me through the years, and the way He is walking with me now... right into 2018.

A Surreal Sunday

My husband got a concussion on Sunday.

He went out to enjoy a few minutes of scootering with our young son before dinner, and the next thing I know, my daughter comes running in, saying, "Mom, come quick! Dad needs you!" I hurry out to meet my husband, hobbling towards the house with his arm around my oldest daughter. Blood was on his chin, neck, and arm. His face was pale and grimaced with pain.

I sat him in a chair and examined his cuts and abrasions. The one on his chin definitely needed stitches, so I starting making preparations for a trip to the emergency room. While calling grandparents and giving instructions to get dinner on the table, I noticed that my husband, though he seemed lucid, was repeating himself. He asked again and again, "What happened? Did I hit something?" No matter how many times I explained to him what had occurred, he asked me the question again within half a minute.

It was scary. If you've never experienced a concussion before, believe me, it was scary. He looked fine (enough) on the outside, but his brain had suffered injury.

All on the way to the hospital, my husband could not remember what happened. He could not remember what he did that morning, or the night before. He could not remember that I was pregnant with our eighth child. But at the hospital, we received the best possible news. I thank God that the doctor did not find any internal bleeding or broken bones. Besides the concussion, there was no other major damage done. My husband suffers from short-term memory loss, but that should go away with time. It has been a "surreal" experience, in his words. He now has greater sympathy for the elderly and those who suffer from Alzheimer's, dementia, or other brain damage.

And I, well, I'm exhausted. I won't write much more than to say this:

Our bodies are wonderfully made, fragile and strong at the same time. That my husband could take a fall like that and not be dead is amazing. That his body is healing itself is astounding. But that it took only a fall from a foot-powered scooter and a landing on a paved road to hurt his head, that makes me humble. There is nothing that we can take for granted. Life and health are gifts from God. Every day and every moment are gifts from God. One minute, I'm cooking dinner and listening to my children play outside with their dad, and the next… I was glad when I cleaned my husband's blood-stained clothes only because I knew that he would still be there to wear them.

Love each other selflessly. Forgive much, as your Father in heaven has forgiven you much. And be thankful. (Colossians 3:15b)

Beyond the Classroom (Part 2 of 2)

My oldest is starting high school. My breath catches in my throat just thinking those words.

"This is it, right? This is the beginning of 'real' life. No more playing around. No more 'learning is fun'. If I mess up now, my son's future is at stake."

That's how I feel about high school, because that is the impression I get. If my son doesn't take the right science class, then he can't take the next right science class, which means he can't get into the right college, and graduate and get the right job. It's time to panic, Rita. 

Yes, PANIC!

But wait, didn't I just give advice to a mom of an eleven-year-old? Didn't I say (and I quote myself), "There are things that schools do not teach our children. There is so much more to life than GPAs, SATs, and PhDs"?

Take a deep breath, Rita. You can't plan everything. You want to line up the dominoes and see them fall, one by one, so neatly and methodically in the pattern you set. You want guaranteed success, for the next four years to sail by without a glitch. You want to be able to see the future, so that you can make choices rather than mistakes, and live with no regret of the past.

But that is not life. And that is certainly not God's plan for  you or your son. God asks you to obey Him one step at a time. To be faithful one day at a time. To trust Him one thought at a time.

So trust Him, Rita.

Trust Him to take care of the details.

And do what you know is right: prepare your son to be a leader, a decision-maker, and a fighter for justice and integrity. Teach him how to learn, how to research, and how to communicate in speech and through the written word. Live by example and show him the importance of God and people, family and friends, work and rest. Remind him that it is more important to reach down and help the helpless than to climb the ladder to the top.

And pray. Pray for each day. Pray for each moment. Pray for each child.

That is something your son will never learn from a textbook.

Introducing… Susan!

I fortunately have several friends who are writers/bloggers, and oftentimes, when I read what they share, I find myself so encouraged! I love that though we don't live in the same neighborhoods or have the same backgrounds, we still have much in common. They are moms, wives, and daughters of God, seeking to live as shining examples of God's love to their families and their neighbors.

And so, I decided to share my mom-blogger-friends with you through a series of short interviews! At the end of each interview, there will be a link to their blog. I know that if you are like me, you don't have tons of time to sit and read through tons of blog posts or emails, but maybe today you too will find yourself reading just the very words you need to hear and be encouraged by my friends' words.

To start us off, let me introduce Susan Narjala, whom I met 8 years ago when she came from Oregon to visit her sister, one of my closest friends. We were both pregnant that summer and so commiserated through the California heat together. Shortly after the birth of her daughter, Susan and her husband decided to move their family back to India– a big and bold move for their family of four. They were able to come back to the U.S. to visit this past summer, and it was wonderful to see her baby all grown up and to catch up on life. I especially love asking her about daily life in India; someday I hope to visit her there! 

Besides regularly posting on her blog, Susan has had articles published by Relevant magazine, the MOPs blog, Parents.co, Indiaanya.com, and Huffington Post India. Her Indian and American background gives her a wonderful, unique perspective on faith and culture, and her sense of humor shines through all her writing. I can always see Susan's smile and hear her laugh when I read her articles!

1) Please tell us a bit about yourself.
I'm a mom of two precious kidlings who are growing up way faster than I'd like. Been married for 12 years to one strong, dependable man who puts his family before himself. If there's something different about me, it's that I've got one foot in America and one in India. I was born and raised in India, but ever since I can remember, I wanted to live in America. I first came to America as a nervous 20-year-old grad school student to Syracuse University in upstate New York. I later got married and moved to Portland, Oregon, where I had my babies and did the whole stay-at-home-mom thing. Twelve years and 856 loads of laundry later, we decided to move back to India and give up our American Dream. I've now lived in India two years and I love it but I still long for the green parks, the clean roads and Target.

2) What passions drive you in your writing?
WIth my writing, it's like my thoughts have to get on paper or on a screen. I think I started journaling when I was eight and don't think I've ever stopped. I love putting into words what God is teaching me through His Word or through daily, mundane, yet sometimes full of surprises, events.

3) What is the greatest lesson you've learned as a wife?

It's a lesson I continue to learn: don't expect my husband to be my God. When I put larger-than-life expectations on my husband, he feels the pressure and I become a pro at nagging. But when I allow God to be my number one priority and get immersed in His love, then my role as a wife and as a partner becomes clearer and more do-able.

4) What is the greatest lesson you've learned as a mom?
What shocked me most about mommyhood was just how impatient I could be! I used to think I was pretty zen and that I'd be a fun mom. Then I had babies. And, oh boy! Did they know how to push my buttons, or what? I think the greatest learning curve for me has been in the patience department. I'm learning that when I strive for perfectionism in my parenting, it's a sure fire recipe for falling flat on my face! 

5) What is the greatest lesson you've learned as a daughter of the King?

That no matter what happens in life, I always circle back to Him. And I can. Because He's always there. My greatest lesson is realizing my absolute neediness before God– and knowing that He is willing and able to untiringly fill me up. His grace doesn't dry up. Ever.

Susan, thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to answer my questions! There is SO much more to say, that I wish I had time for a much longer interview! Maybe someday she'll put it all into a book. (I'm hoping she will!) To read more from Susan, visit her blog Alliteration Alley!

Under His Wings

(I was feeling discouraged and I needed this reminder.)

(lyric from 'Add to the Beauty' by Sara Groves)

No Sorrow

This line is a lyric from the hymn 'Come, Ye Desolate', 

by Thomas Moore (lyrics) and Samuel Webbe (music).

Baptisms

When I first attended MOPs eleven years ago, I would have never thought that many of those people would become like family to me.

This morning, surrounded by this amazing church family, my three oldest children were baptized.

I felt pride at the sight of my children overcoming their fears in obedience to the Lord. But even more than that, I felt overflowing joy and gratefulness for God's grace, His mercies, and His faithfulness to fulfill His promises. All I wanted to do was to fall at the feet of my Lord and thank Him for His abounding love to me and my family.

Thankful All Year Round

Leaves are covering our lawn and our Thankful Tree is up. It's the season of the harvest, the time of year when Americans celebrate the holiday of Thanksgiving.

Though Thanksgiving has become mostly a holiday of feasting, football, and mega-sales, I am still grateful for this day because it reminds me to take the time to give thanks to God for everything I have. Sometimes I am so caught up in the busyness of everyday living that I forget to be thankful, and then I find myself growing more and more grumpy and whiny.

I wish my house was newer!
Why can't my children give me five minutes of peace?!
My husband forgot that… again!

It is so easy to slip into that mode of thinking when I am focusing on myself rather than the Giver, forgetting that the people and things in my life are gifts of kindness from God's gracious hands. I don't deserve any of it. And even if I did, I certainly do not deserve it in abundance. Yet God chooses to give me more: seven children, a wonderful kind husband, a home, new life and purpose through His Son.

Everyday is a gift, and every moment a token of God's mercy upon me. I want to practice being thankful all year round,  and never again be envious or discontent.

Let us come into His presence with thanksgiving; 

let us make a joyful noise to Him with songs of praise! 

~Psalm 95:2

*The Thankful Tree is something my family does every year. The children and I (or anyone who comes to our home) write something for which we are thankful for on a leaf. Then the leaf is moved from the ground to a branch. "It's like fall in reverse!" said one of my kids. The poster stays up for weeks  to encourage the children to keep thinking about being thankful. I love seeing a new leaf pop back onto the tree and reading what people write!