A Fickle Gut

A short post today. This is what I was thinking about in the wee early hours as I lay in bed...

My gut is broken.

And by gut, I don't mean my intestinal insides that be can fixed by changing my diet and ingesting more probiotics, or my changes in appetite throughout the nine months of pregnancy. I mean the instinct inside me that is supposed to guide me through life. Somewhere along the way, during my childhood years, between moving so often, being bullied, not feeling affirmed enough, growing up in the Chinese tradition–a myriad of things–my "guide" broke.

Sometimes "following your gut" is a good thing, but in my case, I would be in a world of trouble, because my gut is not always trustworthy. 

I would take my small revenge–my gut tells me,"You deserve it. He/she owes it to you."

I would be fearful of everything–my gut says, "Something out there will hurt you or your child."

I would doubt myself all the time–my gut whispers, "Don't try it. You'll probably fail." or "Rita, you made a mistake... again."

I would avoid conflict–my gut screams, "Run away! Protect yourself!"

We are broken people living in a broken world. Life happens–the good and the bad–and most of the time, my jerk reaction to the bad is just not reliable. This is a lesson I need to learn again and again: trust in the Word, trust the Holy Spirit's promptings, and trust people I know in the family of God. When I get lax and overly confident in my own abilities, I go with my emotions; then without realizing it, I may choose to take the easy route, the route of self-preservation. But that route is not always the right route. 

Overriding my natural responses and emotions is not easy. It's an uncomfortable place to be–sometimes it's downright painful!–but it's better than listening to the fickleness of my gut.

On Being Pregnant

I only realized today that I have never written about pregnancy. Probably because in the past, whenever I was pregnant, I was also trying to keep up with a toddler. And truthfully, I've never given much thought to pregnancy. I just accepted it "as is". Even now, if someone asks me how I'm feeling (6 months pregnant at this point), I usually just say with a smile, "Like I'm carrying a bowling ball in my stomach."

But my emotions are much more complex than that. It's a "bowling ball" that is depending on me for life. And so far, this baby is pretty mellow, so every other night I wake up in a panic, wondering if she is still alive because I hadn't notice movement since the afternoon.

And though I KNOW that I'm not "fat", I can't help but be self-conscious about how this "bowling ball" makes me look. Clothes don't fit like they used to. People say I look "glowing" and "beautiful", but most of the time, I don't feel like that. I'm tired. My legs and ankles ache. If I don't wear compression tights, the veins on my legs bulge (I apologize in advance for the gross imagery) like I have slugs and worms living under my skin.

Simply put, I don't feel like myself.

But then again, that's because I am NOT myself. I am, in fact, two people right now.

And maybe that's the whole point. These nine months before the baby is born puts me in a place of discomfort and inconvenience–to say the least–which forces me to be less self-centered. It's not all about me. Just as it will not be all about me when this child is born. Can I put myself aside during these months, before this tiny human arrives and I have to put myself aside even more? And for my husband–this is training time to care for me more as I go through nausea and pain and self-doubt. He is my encouragement, now and for the months and years ahead.

So rather than treating these months of pregnancy as a waiting period, impatiently whining and griping while the baby is "just growing", I can learn to enjoy this time as a period where God is growing ME. 

A Higher Calling (Finding the Balance When Mothering)

It's been a crazy summer. You can tell because I haven't posted anything since June. Our summer started off with a major play production, my parents' visit, my sister's wedding, my best friends' visit, and my husband's grandmother's memorial service. July slowed down, but ended with a week-long camping trip, followed by kids' camps.

And now it's August! Time to buckle down and focus on school prep, all the while trying to clean the house after bringing home the woods (and laundry!) from our camping adventure.

BUT...

I'm rebelling inside. I go through phases like this every now and then, and this summer, it's been especially hard. I'm tired. And I don't like housework. Or schedules. I don't really like cooking, washing, and household managing for 8 kids day in and day out.

BUT...

I do it. I do it because I know it's only for a season, and because I believe that mothering truly is a higher calling. Nothing I do in life will be as important as nurturing my children and creating a loving, warm, safe environment for them to grow in.

BUT...

there is still a part of me that wants to ignore the dishes (that are in the sink at this very moment) and spend my hours doing something else. I'm always itching to dive back fully into the world of music and art. I got a taste of this in June, when I directed and performed the music for the play production, and let me tell you–I loved it! I felt like I was finally doing what God designed me to do, after keeping myself in check for the past 18 years (yes, my first-born turns 18 this month!) and my heart jumped when the youth theater company asked me to be music director for their upcoming season!

BUT...

I had to say no. Believe me, it was difficult. I just couldn't see how I could juggle homeschooling, housekeeping, and music directing. I knew that I wouldn't "be there" for my husband and kids, both mentally and physically. For now, I still need to focus on mothering. And so, I prayed that God will give me opportunities like this again, when the timing is right, and in the meantime, I will trust Him and be patient. I know that God gave me talents to bless others; it's just a matter of finding ways to do so even in this season.

FYI, just because I have 8 kids and homeschool doesn't mean I always enjoy my full-time mothering job. It's hard. I'm not always content. 

BUT...

this is what the Bible says about contentment.

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. (Philippians 4:11-13 ESV)

If you know you are where God wants you to be, you can be content. God will give you the strength to get through it. And so I know that being home is EXACTLY where God wants me to be! And from that, I draw my contentment, even as I struggle, and in my contentment, I find joy. 

If you are like me, constantly debating with yourself, constantly bouncing between "buts", let me encourage you. There is nothing wrong with having the desire to use the talents God has given you, as long as those desires don't become your main focus and override God's will for you. It won't be easy; it will require years of patience, perseverance, creativity, and trusting in God. 

BUT... (the final but) 

it's worth it. No one else can be Mom to YOUR children. While you feel like you're just cleaning and dealing with grumpy children all day, you are doing SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT.

In the meantime, what to do when you feel the pull between your responsibilities and your desires?! If you fill all your waking hours with only cleaning etc., you will burn out and lose your joy in mothering. You NEED to do the things that feed your soul. And you can balance that by either creatively involving your children, or finding an hour or two every week to do what you love. Here's what I do:

1) Remind yourself of the truth (review Philippians 4:11-13). Don't listen to the lies out there. You don't need a job to fulfill you. You may choose to work (and I know how good it feels to get recognition and pats on the back) but a job or career will not "complete" you. Only God can do that. Motherhood is not the loss of identity, but the gain of a new one. Only when you understand this will you find contentment and joy in motherhood.

2) Pinpoint what you really need to feed your soul. Is it getting outside? Is it moving physically? Is it thinking in a creative way? Is it collaborating with people? I thought I missed being a professional musician, but it wasn't necessarily the performing that I miss. I discovered that I just love making music with people (any people!), and being challenged musically. Once I pinpointed this, I figured out ways to meet this need. 

3) Be creative in finding an outlet. When I couldn't paint, I discovered chalk art. When I couldn't sing in a choir, I started a little children's choir at my church. When I need something to break up the mundane, I try a new recipe, play or sing a new song, or take the kids exploring in our area. You can teach a class, you can involve your neighbors, you can play piano for residents at a senior care home, you can volunteer at the school or library. If you think outside the box, you will find that there are many ways to do what you love with your children, or do what you love in a smaller setting that still leaves you time for mothering.

No More Excuses

In my new book, I make a lot of confessions. Here's one I didn't include:

I'm afraid to talk to new people.

This morning, as we gathered for in-person indoor worship for the first time in over a year, I was so nervous about the many new faces filling the sanctuary. I wanted to stick close to people I knew, or busy myself with something and avoid eye contact. Just the thought of talking to someone new makes my heart race, my palms sweat, and my mind go blank. 

And I used to let that be my excuse.

"I'm just shy. That's who I am."

"They don't want to talk to me. I'll wait for someone to come over to me."

"It's easier to hang out by the food table and keep putting food in my mouth so I don't have to talk to people."

But guess what? God still calls me to love people, to reach out, and to build community. And He has all the tools I need to grow in this arena.

No more excuses. 

So, this morning, I made it my goal to meet one new person before I left. And I did it! I walked straight up to a new person and introduced myself.

Sometimes I'm talking to parents and I hear them say things similar to what I used to say about being shy. 

"I could never do what you do."

"I just don't have the patience."

"You were meant to have eight kids. I wasn't."

There was a time when I believed these too! I would watch how another mom handled a situation and think, "I could never..."

But I have learned over the years that God calls me to be the best mom my kids can have. He has all the tools I need to grow as a parent. So whether I am getting to know my newborn, or I'm figuring out new ways to be organized, or I'm learning patience–again and again and again–God's got me covered. 

No more excuses.

(Read more about my parenthood journey in my book, Dirtying My Sleeves!)

My Father's Delight

When I was young, I would spend hours on the piano–playing new songs, playing old songs, singing, writing–I simply couldn't get enough. My parents loved it when I filled the house with music. My siblings didn't love it quite as much.

When it came time for me to decide on a college and major, I was set on education.

"You should study music," my parents told me.

I shrugged. But in the end I signed up as a music major because the school I picked only had education as a minor. Good thing my parents knew me better than I knew myself. I loved the four years I had to immerse myself in music; that love has not diminished. And my parents still delight in their daughter's singing and playing.

Now that I'm a mom, I also delight in my children. When I see my children doing something they love–singing, playing, running, building–the joy on their faces fills me with a greater joy.

Did you know that God delights in YOU in the same way?

Zephaniah 3:17 says, "The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing."

Some people, when they think of God, think of His anger or His disappointment. They see God more as a taskmaster than a father. Others, when they think of God as a father, see Him more as a provider or a guardian. But a delighted Father? one who laughs? the Creator who enjoys His creation? For most of us, it's hard to picture God this way. We're thinking, "Yeah, I know He loves me, but...." 

God does not love us out of obligation. He truly enjoys us! He is happy when He sees us loving life! He rejoices over us with singing! That's like when I'm with my kids and I start singing a number from a Broadway musical (and totally embarrassing my children)! But I can't help it because I'm swept up by the joy my children give me!

Do you know the delight of the Father?

The Better Version of Me

Okay, it's confession time.

When I graduated from UC Berkeley (ah, so many years ago!), I was a cynic. I had entered the school an innocent, idealistic, optimistic 18-year-old, and left a sarcastic and pessimistic 21-year-old. It took me a while to realize the change in me, and to realize that putting on the air of being tough and snarky was not the way I wanted to relate to people. It may be a good survival instinct in a world of pain and suffering, but it was not loving.

So I made a choice–I would rather be seen as naive, wide-eyed, and kind and generous to a fault, than be seen as witty, sophisticated, and fashionably dark and fatalistic. I worked on cultivating the skill of seeing people through a positive lens and giving them the benefit of the doubt. And I realized that it wasn't the environment of UC Berkeley that had made me a cynic; it was the part of me that wanted to stand out and be noticed. In this world, the quiet, kind person doesn't tend to get much attention. But to be kind is a gift, not a failing.

Now, I find myself at these crossroads again.

Only this time, something had unknowingly crept up on me over the past twenty years. While I was trying to be kind by being quiet and deferential, there were people in my life who told me, "Speak up! You should get what you want! You deserve it!" I started believing that it was better to always know what I want and to be verbal about it!

But now there are times when I regret what I say. I want so much to make my opinion be known that I blurt it out with no thought to the other person, and then later find myself asking, "Did I say that out of love, or in an attempt to look superior? Does my opinion always have to be know? When does it really matter that I speak my thoughts?"

The answer is that I still desire to be noticed, and I sometimes state my opinion merely to bring attention to myself, like the gong in I Corinthians 13:1.

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. (I Corinthians 13:1 NIV)

Even if I say some pretty amazing things, without love, I am still saying nothing.

And I Peter 4:8-11a (NIV) says, Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God's grace in its various forms. If anyone speaks, they should do so as one who speaks the very words of God...

I know that the best thing to do is to strive for a balance between tight-lipped and being loquacious, because there are times when I do need to speak up, in truth and love. But if I really had to choose today which "Rita" I would rather be–the quiet, reserved one or the loud, opinionated one–I choose the first. Even if it would mean that I may never again give my strong opinion on anything, I would rather have the words that come from my mouth be healing, not wrecking.

Renewed Joy in Serving

Serving in the church has been a part of my life since my childhood. Being the daughter of a pastor meant I was at church all the time. As soon as I was big enough, I was asked to help sweep, clean toys, and set up chairs. When my parents noticed my musical gifts and my love for children, I was asked to play piano and help in Sunday School. For the most part, I was always happy to help. As a young Christian entering my high school years, I continued to serve faithfully–every Sunday–because I was doing what I loved.

But then something changed in my college years. My dad planted a church. And I started serving for the wrong reasons. Sometimes I was filling a hole. Sometimes I enjoyed the attention and the praise. Sometimes I served because it was what I did on Sundays, like a job. I didn’t pray about how I should serve, or ask God to guide me. Soon, I grew weary, bitter, and discontent.

A decade later, married with young children and attending Valley Bible Church, I sat listening as Gary Darnell taught on Ephesians 4. I finally learned the purpose of serving: “to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ” (v. 12). This image of “building up the body” is repeated in the chapter:

”Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love.” (Ephesians 4:15-16)

We are constantly bombarded with messages like “follow your heart”, “find your passion”, “do what makes you happy”. Previously I had fallen into the trap of chasing happiness by serving, happiness as the goal instead of a delightful outcome. But Christian joy in service comes when we partner with God in his care for his family, when we response to God’s message of grace and love. Maturing, we develop a deeper love for fellow brothers and sisters and for the Heavenly Father. As I grew in my faith, my original love for singing grew into a love to sing in order to bring people into a place of worship. My love for children and teaching grew into a love to unify the church through the Word and encourage the whole body to grow. 

I didn’t realize this growth in me until last year, when the pastor to women saw my love for hospitality and asked me to help with the women’s ministry Equip Day. I felt an urge to say “yes” because of this love. But I also hesitated because I didn’t want to fall into the old trap, to say “yes” just to fill a hole. And so I prayed and realized that to say “yes” would be to live in God’s will; it would be a way for me to encourage the body to grow. Though participating in Equip Day involved public speaking (something that I do not love), my greater desire to see the church body flourish empowered me to set aside my fear of public speaking.

Last week’s message in Romans 12 reminded me that my renewed joy in serving came when, through “sober judgment" (v.3) and a desire to benefit the body of Christ, I extended my gift of hospitality beyond simply doing something I love. God provided the “measure of faith” required to use my gift of hospitality to equip and build up my VBC family. And it was a joy!

(This post was originally published on Valley Bible Church's website, the VBC Blog.)

Growth

During a piano lesson one day, I was thinking about recitals and how far each of my students have come, when I recalled an incident from my years as a high school teacher.

It was my second year of teaching and I had been put in charge of the musical performances for graduation. No big deal. At the small private school I was teaching, I knew each senior by name and already knew who the strong singers were.

Then a senior named Kate approached me. She was friendly, gentle and kind, a girl who was content to be in the background. A quiet leader, I called her. She was a great role model in her class, and though not considered one of the "popular" students, she was loved by all. She had been doing some singing with me, and when she asked if she could sing at graduation, I said enthusiastically, "Yes!" She wasn't a strong singer, but I didn't make my decision based on that; I made it based on her character.

And then it was my job to stand up for my decision. With barely two years of experience under my belt, some other teachers felt that I shouldn't have made that call, but I stood by Kate. I knew how she'd grown the past year. I knew the courage it took for her to even get up on a stage. I knew that the song she was singing may not sound as good as some other girl singing it, but it would have more meaning. 

We still live in a culture that pressures us to look a certain way or act a certain way. We see photos of "the rich and famous" and aspire to be like them. We want to impress people, or we want our children to impress people. We compare, measure, and compare some more. But-

it is not the face you show the world for 5 minutes that counts,

it's who you are consistently when no one is watching.

it's not always the end goal that matters most,

it's also the journey you took to get there.

Growth is not looking at a tree and saying, "Wow! Look how tall it is!"

Growth is looking at a tree and saying, "Wow! That used to be a tiny seed! Look how tall it's become!"

Doing BIG Things

It's that time of year again.

Time to put another candle on the cake. And time to ask myself, "Did I use my time well this past year?"

Sometimes I get frustrated because there is so much I want to do: missions trips, book ideas, art and music. I've always had a great desire to do something to change the world, or in the words of Sara Groves, "and when the saints go marching in, I want to be one of them." I want to do something BIG.

And what have I done this past year? No books, no songs, and definitely no time with orphans in China, with churches in Africa, or with refugees in Iraq. I live a quiet, peaceful life in suburbia, potty training toddlers and driving teenagers around. I am doing so little compared to those who sacrifice their comfort, their health, their income, or their very lives for the Kingdom.

But this I've learned, and I continue to remind myself: doing what God calls me to do IS big. I want to go to Africa; God says, "Tend my sheep... in California. Impact the world here, where family and children are no long valued. Show them what My love looks like. Teach others, and continue to learn from your elders so you are ready when I guide you to a new adventure." And so I make a sacrifice too, the sacrifice of doing what I want.

Living the life God intended for me is about two things. One, there are times when He calls me to step out in courage and tackle something new. There are times when He calls you too. And two, there are times when He calls me to stay put and focus on the task He had appointed for me. And for some of you, this is where you are at. You wonder if there is more to life than this mundaneness. You wonder if you are making an impact on the world. But remember, it is not the size of the task that matters. One child or eight, writing a book or changing a diaper... we may feel that what we do is insignificant, but He never does. Not if we are doing what He called us to do, and not if what we are doing brings Him glory.

On Being the Older Woman

Ten years ago, when my family first started attending Valley Bible Church, I was in awe of the women I met there. It seemed like every woman I talked to was welcoming, beautiful, joyful, kind, and gracious. Some were homeschooling moms with four or more children. Some were grandmothers. But no matter what stage of life they were in, these women were strong yet humble leaders in the church, working together to serve the youth, missions, children's ministry, and events. I didn't sense that there was a pecking order; the church did not feel like a social club. (Isn't it sad that I even had to write that, because there are churches out there like that?)

At the time, I had just turned thirty, and was still trying to figure out life with three children, ages five and under. I struggled with my sense of self and with my security in God's peace and love. And after six years of serving in a church plant with mostly other twenty-somethings, I was hungry for wisdom from older women. 

These women have not let me down–they are the real deal–and they have been my role models for the past ten years (whether they knew it or not). Through conversations, Bible studies, and serving alongside the older women, I have grown immensely. They have taught me about true beauty, one that flows out from the Spirit living inside. They have taught me about interdependence and living in community. They have taught me about being a good wife and mother and what it means to be a daughter of God.

I realized recently, when I turned forty, that I am now the "older" woman that the younger women in my church might look up to. I pray I am just as gracious, kind, joyful, and humble as my role models. And this year, I will be speaking three times at my church, on three different subjects. Marriage, parenting, and hospitality are all things that I had been studying these past ten years and have become passionate about. Never would I have imagined that I would be ask to speak on them! I am looking forward to sharing what I know, and I hope to do a good job! 

Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior… They are to teach what is good, and so train the young women…  ~Titus 2:3-4

A Work in Progress

Petit à Petit

Growing up, my family did not have much money for furniture and household items. Most of what we owned were second-hand, which meant I did not have a say in what my bedroom looked like. I learned to be grateful for what I received and creative with what I had.

One day, when I was a teenager, my parents had me pick out a lamp and window valances for my room. For the first time, I had to think beyond the practical and ask myself, "What do I like?"

To the surprise of everyone, I picked out a Tiffany style lamp and ivory crocheted valances! To this day, I love stained glass and crocheted things!

My journey as wife and mother has been similar. My husband and I started off with mostly hand-me-down couches, vacuum cleaners, tables, and chairs. Then one year, I asked my husband that instead of Christmas presents, we go out and buy our very own coffee table. And slowly, ever so slowly, I've furnished my house and discovered my style along the way. I know now that I love rustic wood and antiques. I also love color and organic prints, especially florals. It may be decades before my home looks "done", but that's okay, I still have time to discover myself. My home is always a work in progress. As the French say, Petit à petit, l'oiseau fait son nid. (Translated, it means, "Little by little, the bird builds its nest.")

I chose to write about this now (and do a little pencil sketch of a jay working on its nest) to remind myself that most things in my life is petit à petit: not just decorating but organizing my home in a way so that it runs efficiently, learning to manage my curly hair, discovering my fashion sense, homeschooling (every year I'm teaching a new grade!), parenting, marriage, understanding the Bible…sometimes I wish I had everything figured out, but that is never the case! My life is a work in progress, and though I grow impatient because I want instant results (or envious when I visit someone's beautiful home or admire someone's luxurious hair), I must remember that "little by little" is not necessarily a bad thing. After all, God is shaping me, moment by moment, and just as my home slowly reflect my personality more and more, I will slowly reflect God more and more. And I get excited just thinking about the ways He is growing me and the beautiful things He has planned for me! I am the ultimate Work in Progress!

Almost-40 Me

My sister just shared a photo from Easter on Facebook. It is a picture of me with my two siblings, and every time I look at it, I cringe a little. Maybe it was the lighting, or maybe it was the angle, but either way, I look…well…chubby. Chubby and haggard.

I don't care that it had only been four weeks since I gave birth and I was completely sleep-deprived. Or that I had just eaten more than I should have. It wasn't me in the picture, not the me that I'm used to seeing.

But this is me. This is the hair-thinning, black-graying, eyes-wrinkling, almost-40 mother-of-eight me.

You'd think I'd be more mature and less shallow at my age. You'd think I'd be more wise. Actually, I don't mind getting older. It's aging that I don't like.

But let's think about this! I wouldn't expect my newborn to stay a newborn. Or my 14-year-old to stop maturing. We all change with time, and growth is always a good thing, isn't it?

For every white hair on my head, there is a lesson learned. For every laugh line on my face, a memory of a joyful moment. For every shadow under my eyes, a hug and kiss to comfort a child. For every extra pound on my body, I can count multiple blessings from God. 

So what if I'm a little wider than I used to be?

I have grown so much in the past decade. I can say without hesitation that I prefer the 39-year-old Me to the 19-year-old or 29-year-old Me. The person I am today is less fearful, less self-centered, and less impatient than before. I am now more gracious, more kind, more humble, and more sympathetic.

And I know I still have a ways to go. So if gaining more wisdom means maybe gaining a few more pounds and wrinkles, then I don't mind so much. It's time to accept this and move on, and spend less of my time and focus on my physical appearance, and more on my spiritual development. Then someday, when I look in the mirror and see a new version of Me, I'll to be able to say, "I like the 49-year-old Me even more than the 39-year-old Me!"

Introducing… Dorcas!

Many years ago, I was a lonely ten-year-old whose family had just moved from New York to California. I soon met my first friend, a joyful, spunky, enthusiastic girl named Dorcas. She was a year younger than me and we had much in common– Chinese parents who were devoted Christians, a home in the suburbs, weekends spent at piano lessons and church gatherings.

A few years passed, and as life changes came our way, it seemed that Dorcas and I no longer had as much in common. Sadly, Dorcas's father passed away from liver failure when she was only 14-years-old. Dorcas went on to attend Stanford University, then married her college sweetheart, who was an engineer/entrepreneur and the cofounder and CEO of d.light, the maker of solar-powered, rechargeable, LED lanterns (check them out at www.dlight.com). Now Dorcas Cheng-Tozun, she and her husband lived internationally before settling back in California to raise their two children.

Somewhere along the way, Dorcas and I reconnected on Facebook, and that was when I discovered that Dorcas was an amazing writer! With a humble, honest, beautiful, clear voice, Dorcas shared on her blog about her faith, her life as wife and mom, and her time being a Chinese-American living in China. As I read about her unique and sometimes challenging life experiences, I found myself laughing, sighing, and sympathizing with her, and our lives once again shared a commonality– one that went beyond our young, junior high, suburban lives. Now, with her talent for writing about culture, Christian faith, and the world of small-business start-ups, she is a regular contributor for Inc.com, Christianity Today, The Well, and Asian American Women on Leadership. 

Then, almost a year ago, Dorcas made an exciting announcement! A publisher was interested in her book proposal, and she had signed a contract to write a book on start-ups and family life! And all while expecting her second child! Knowing that she was one busy mama, I hesitated to ask her for an interview, but I also knew that she had such wisdom and insights to share. So I contacted her, and she kindly found the time to answer a few questions for me. Read on (and find out where you can pick up a copy of her book!)

1) Tell us about yourself.

I grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area, but I have also had the privilege of living in mainland China, Hong Kong, and Kenya. My husband, Ned, and I are college sweethearts who have been married for more than twelve years. We have two adorable boys who have the wonderfully unusual combination of being part Chinese, part Turkish, and part Jewish.

For the first decade of my professional career, I worked in the nonprofit sector, supporting a number of different programs and policies to empower underserved communities. But I always loved writing and found excuses to write in my jobs, whether it was writing reports, proposals, or newsletters. When my first son was born five years ago, it seemed like as good a time as any to try pursuing writing full-time. It’s been a wild, unpredictable ride, and I have loved it.

2) What passions drive you in your writing?

I firmly believe that powerful stories can transform us on a very deep level. I am especially passionate about telling true stories that delve into the messiness of human existence—the awful, the beautiful, and the profound. It is from these stories that I think we can learn the most about who we are, what connects us as fellow human beings, and how God is redeeming each of us day by day.

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

Being a wife has taught me the importance of prioritizing my husband’s flourishing, even when it has been costly for me. Ned has a vocational calling that is extremely demanding, and the entire family has had to sacrifice significantly to support him. 

It has been far too easy for me to grow resentful of these sacrifices without acknowledging that Ned’s flourishing is directly linked to my own. As he has grown in his leadership through his business, he has become a more mature and supportive husband and father. He sees what I have given up for him and is that much more willing to sacrifice for me. Ned has been the greatest supporter of my writing career, even though it’s probably one of the least stable careers I could pursue.

4) What is the greatest lesson you’ve learned as a mother?

In a single word: grace. Grace for myself, as I see all my flaws and imperfections emerging through the daily toil of managing sleep deprivation, tantrums, and adorable little people who have a mind of their own. I have learned far more about my limitations than my abilities after becoming a mom, which has pushed me to be more humble and to be more willing to ask for help. 

Grace for my sons, of course, who are trying to find their own way and establish their own identities in this world. Grace for my husband, who is a fantastic dad, even though his time with the family is limited. 

And grace for all the other moms out there, who are juggling kids and housework and vocation and community service and more. None of us are doing it perfectly, but we’re all trying our best, and we deserve to be acknowledged for our efforts.

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

Like many kids of Asian immigrant parents, I’ve struggled for years with striving, achievement, people-pleasing, and perfectionism. Over the past decade or so, God has been slowly unraveling the false idea that I am only as good or valuable as what I can accomplish. He has been teaching me that my worth is in my identity as his beloved—just as the worth of every other individual is as his beloved as well. 

While this is a lesson that I am still very much in the middle of learning, in recent years I have felt far greater freedom to take risks, to try new things, and to be (somewhat) okay with failing. My life is so much richer when I am less burdened by the need to prove myself or earn others’ approval. I can instead lean into the unpredictable adventure that God has me and my family on.

6)  What is the best way for readers to get a hold of your book?

As of November 7, my first book, entitled Start, Love, Repeat: How to Stay in Love with Your Entrepreneur in a Crazy Start-up World (Hachette Center Street), will be available wherever books are sold! You can get the hardcover version, e-book, or audio book through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other online retailers. Hopefully you’ll also be able to find it in your local bookstore.

As you can imagine, this book was inspired by my real-life experience. My hope is that this will be a helpful, practical guidebook for couples that are struggling to balance marriage and family with growing a business. And it’ll also tell you a lot more about the life lessons I’ve learned as the wife of an entrepreneur.

To read an excerpt from Dorcas's book, or to read Dorcas's other published works, visit her website, www.chengtozun.com. And thank you so much, Dorcas, for taking the time to answer my questions! Congratulations on your new publishing venture!

Call the Action League! (or More On Superpowers)

It all started with my son's green hooded bath towel. He would run around the house with the towel flapping behind him, stopping every now and then to practice his karate moves on a pillow or his sister. I nicknamed the little boy 'Green Ghost', which he quickly and enthusiastically embraced as his alter ego.

Soon his little sister joined him in his game (maybe she was tired of being the practice dummy). Her towel had an octopus on the hood, so I called her 'Octopus Girl'. My husband designed superhero logos for them and drew cartoon versions of them, and the two loved being the heroes of their own adventures.

Now we have superhero names for all the children. Green Ghost, Octopus Girl, Flaming Marshmallow, the Climbist, Flying Cupcake, and Skygazer are all part of what we call the Action League. And I am Mega-mama, married to my ever faithful partner Dada-tron. We each have a t-shirt with our personal logo on it. We even have a theme song ("Call the Action League!") We don't have full-blown costumes (at least not yet) but the Action League is something that defines us and unites us as a family. When my sixth child was born at home, his siblings decided together that they all need to wear their superhero T-shirts that day to welcome him into our family.

But there is something more to the Action League. Just as the Avengers, the Incredibles, or the members of Big Hero 6 must learn to use their individual strengths cooperatively in order to save the world, our little band can do great things if we acknowledge and cultivate each person's individual talents and practice using them in ways to build each other up. As each child joined our family, he/she brought something unique to contribute to the 'team'.

So when my more serious child begins to get annoyed with his sillier sibling, I remind him that his sibling's silliness can be a gift to him. My husband likes to point out each child's strengths, not as a way of comparison, but to say, "God designed you to be you! He has a specific plan for you!" My artistic children are not artistic in the same way. My musical children are not musical in the same way. Even my husband and I are not musical in the same way! And that's just the tip of the iceberg! We choose to practice showing appreciation, rather than aggravation, for the differences that we each bring to the marriage. Even a simple "Thank you for doing that" can be so encouraging!

And here's my favorite part. (You knew it was coming!) My family is a constant reminder of how the body of Christ is meant to function: as individuals unified through ultimate grace, with one purpose– to glorify God– and one goal– to spread the Gospel of His love. The apostle Paul writes about this in three of his epistles:

For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another. Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them… ~Romans 12:3-6a 

And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ… when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love. ~Ephesians 4:11-16

Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. ~I Corinthians 12:4-7

(All of I Corinthians 12 is worth reading, especially in light of the fact that it leads directly into the famous 'Love Chapter'.)

So here's your assignment, if you choose to accept it. In your family, or your Bible study, or your circle of friends, or within your greater church body, how can you show appreciation for those whose gifts are different from yours? Is there any bitterness, envy, or annoyance that you need to confess? Any forgiveness or apologies that need to be given? And what is the action step you need to take from here in order to build up the Body in love?

How I Discovered My Superpowers

"This looks like a job for… Rita Baird!"

Okay, the truth is, I've never said that. And there is no Bat Signal illuminating the sky (I wouldn't see it anyway, since I prefer to sleep as much as I can when it's dark) or Jimmy Olson calling me on his signal watch (unless my husband changes his name to Jimmy and suddenly decides to get an iWatch). But when a friend needs a place to sleep, or a home-cooked meal, or a babysitter, or just some extra loving, my call to action is four simple words:

Sure, come on over!

It's your birthday? I'll whip up some chocolate cupcakes!

Your kids are here for a playdate? I can make cookies or popcorn.

Having a hard week? I'll double dinner and drop off a potpie and visit with you for a bit.

Who knew that under this ordinary-suburban-mom exterior were these amazing superpowers lying dormant all these years? 

Tsk, you scoff. That's not a superpower. Almost anyone can do that!

Which is true. My superpowers are not elasticity, invisibility, or telekinesis; rather, they are hospitality, flexibility, generosity, and a love for baking. But still, not everyone has those qualities! And there are plenty of things that I can NOT do. So while other people have their talents, I have mine, and I have recently realized that just because my talents are commonplace doesn't mean they are not special. With my specific God-given skill set, I can do all I can in the here and now to serve the people I come in contact with. The best part? I didn't need to be zapped by gamma rays (and turn mean and green) or get bitten by a radioactive spider (ew! and ouch!) to use my superpowers!

So, what are your superpowers? How has God uniquely shaped you? How can you use your talents to serve and build His Kingdom? Is there a step of faith that you have hesitated to take? Is now the time? 

"With great power comes great responsibility," right?

My Fishes and Loaves

There are times when I feel overwhelmed by the need I see in the world. When I am on the road and I stop at an intersection, I study the cars that "meet" me at this juncture and estimate how many people are in the cars, and how many families they represent, and how many stories and sadnesses they hold all together. Then I feel like the author of Ecclesiastes when he writes, "I saw the tears of the oppressed- and they have no comforter; power was on the side of the oppressors- and they have no comforter" (4:1).

Or if I simply sit on a Sunday and watch people as they come and go for the morning service, I see various groups, each with specific needs. There are the handicapped, the elderly couples or widows/widowers, young married couples, teenagers, dating couples, single parents, divorced parents, families with children, families without children, and all the children themselves– how could I possibly help them all?!

The temptation for me is to fall into utter hopelessness, or to veer to the other extreme: I want to do all that I can to help as many people as possible. Then I end up saying, "Yes, I can do that!" to everyone and everything until I collapse in an emotionally and physically-exhausted heap.

Gladly, that was the tendency of a much younger me. Since becoming a wife, a mother, and a more diligent follower of Christ, I have learned that it is not my task to save everyone. But neither is it my job to sit back and mope. And a great example of this is the story of the boy with the fishes and loaves (see Matthew 14, Mark 6, Luke 9, and John 6), which I read with my younger children earlier this week. Picture this...

It had been a long day. People had journeyed from all over to meet this man named Jesus, and among them was a boy. His mother had sent him to the Lake of Galilee to see what was going on there. And when he arrived, he was excited to see the healings and to hear the teachings of Jesus.

But it was still tiring to sit out in the sun for so many hours. The boy was grateful for the meal his mother had packed for him. No one else seemed ready to leave, and so the boy settled on a small rock and prepared to devour his five loaves of bread and two small fishes.

Then, just before he bit into a loaf, he heard some men talking.

"Even if we had eight month's worth of wages, we couldn't feed all these people!"

Jesus and his friends were going to try to feed everyone?! The boy looked around him. From his position on the hill, he could see the people stretch between him and the lake. Never before had the boy seen so many people! It would be impossible for anyone but Caesar to feed such a large crowd! What could anyone do but send the people home?

The boy lifted the loaf to his mouth again, ready to savor his mother's delicious bread, when he saw one of Jesus's friends come near. The man was scanning the crowd, asking here and there, "Do you have any food?"

The boy didn't know what to do. What difference would his two fishes and five loaves make? But maybe the man was asking for food because Jesus was hungry. The boy stood up.

"Excuse me, sir, I have some food."

The man quickly ran over. "How much do you have?"

"Only five loaves of bread and two fishes. But Jesus can have it all, if He wants."

The man heaved a tired sigh. "Okay, that's fine. Come with me then."

The boy gathered his basket and cloak and walked with the man towards the hill where Jesus sat. His heart pounded. He was going to share his food with Jesus! But what would Jesus think of such a meager meal? There was no turning back now. When they reached Jesus, the boy shakily held his basket out. Jesus smiled at the boy, took the basket, and held it up to the sky, giving thanks for the food.

Then Jesus did something the boy did not expect. Without taking any for himself, Jesus told his friends to pass the food out to the crowd. The boy watched as person after person was fed fish and bread, and even as he watched, he couldn't explain how this was possible. It took an hour for Jesus's twelve friends to pass out the food, and when everyone had had their fill, Jesus told the men to collect the leftovers– each returning with one big basketful!

The boy could have kept his food for himself. He could have shrugged his shoulders in pessimism or apathy because, logically, his food could not have fed more than three or four people at best.

But the little he had, he gave to Jesus. And it was Jesus who took that little and made it more. And He didn't make it 'just enough', He went above and beyond! Jesus is the God of abundance!

So I don't need to give in despair, nor do I need to take on the burdens of the world. When Jesus sees people driving in their cars or sitting in a church service, and He sees ALL their sadnesses and heartaches, He also sees a very different picture–one of joy and healing– "…for He Himself knew what he would do." (John 6:6) 

And the best part is that he invites me to take part in it, to have a front row seat, to be his right-hand man! Every thing I do, no matter how small, if I do it for Jesus, can be used (and multiplied) by Him to bless people. Which reminds me of one of my favorite verses:

Whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him. ~Colossians 3:17

I will give to God what little I have to give, by writing this post, or inviting a friend over, or watching someone's baby, or sending someone a card. Who knows how far reaching my one action can go when I allow God to be the One who saves, the One who makes abundance flow from nothing?

If I Wrote a Mother's Day Card

I may be a writer, but you wouldn't want me working for Hallmark. Let's just say that, sometimes, I'm TOO sincere.

Which also means I have a hard time buying cards at the store. I look through card after card, searching for the perfect message for the occasion, and usually I can't find one! Even if there is a tiny part of the message that doesn't TRULY reflect my sentiments, I can't give that card.

This can make it especially difficult at this time of year. The greeting card shelves are lined with cards that say "To the BEST mom!" But when I read those words, my mind jumps to memories of me with my mom: the fights, the tears, the times when I felt abandoned. There are still moments from my childhood that are too painful to talk about. Could I call my mom the best mom ever? I've come a long way, but I still don't think I can say that.

But my mom was the best mom she could be. I can say from my own experience that mothering is much harder than it looks; I too have made my share of mistakes (oh, too many to count!) and I have my own deficiencies that, I'm sure, drive my children crazy! I know that I am NOT the world's best mom. So if I could get any card from my children this Sunday, I wouldn't want one that gives me that title. I would rather receive a card that reads:

Mom, there have been times when I've felt hurt, 

ignored, or misunderstood by you. 

There are times when I've seen you act in ways 

that are impatient, angry, immature, and self-centered.

But I've also seen you grow.

I've seen you seeking wisdom from God's word.

I've seen you on your heart's knees, praying for those you love.

I've seen you try your hardest, until even your hardest was not enough.

I've seen you admit wrong and change to be a better mom.

And I'm sure there was much that I did not see.

You've loved me and cared for me day after day, 

sometimes at a sacrifice to yourself.

And because of that, I honor and respect you.

God gave me to you, and you to me.

Thank you for doing your best to fulfill the role God has given you.

(Do you see what I mean about my working for Hallmark?)

But in writing this imaginary Mother's Day card to myself, I realize that these are some of the same words I would say to my own mom. When I was younger, I didn't see the whole picture. It took time for me to mature, to grow in Christ, to learn to forgive and to see my mom as a person, to be at a place where I can say, truly, "I honor and respect you, Mom."

My mom is now diligently serving my dad as he fights cancer and goes through chemotherapy. She is on the job around-the-clock, and through it all, she is holding steadfastly to her faith in her Savior. My mother may have tripped and fallen often in the 37 years I have known her, but today she is a wonderful example of a faithful and godly wife. She still makes mistakes, but then again, so do I.

I know there are many people who also have had difficult relationships with their mothers, to varying degrees. Forgiveness and respect do not come easily, but it can come, with God's help. This Mother's Day, don't just send your mom a Hallmark card chosen haphazardly off the shelf. Give her a real gift: grace.