Food for the Soul

During the Covid pandemic, I had a clear understanding of the purpose of art. Though most people had food and shelter during the lock-down, it wasn't enough. We aren't simply robots, needing a recharge and tune-up every now and then. We are human, we are souls, and art fed those souls. So my family and I painted cards to send to people and made music videos to share online. At that time, I understood that art was a necessity.

But somehow, this past year, I lost that understanding. I no longer had a clear vision of the "why" behind what I did. My head knew it, but my heart didn't. As I tried to think of ways to bring in more income to help my college-bound children, I felt more and more that artists were undervalued in society. Schools were cutting art and music programs. Tech and computer skills were desirable in the job market. I could make $25/hour teaching music, but if a fast-food employee makes $20/hour (new law here in California), then does that mean I'm worth a little more than a McDonald worker? (I know it's not the right question to ask, but that's where my heart was at the time.)

What made matters worst was that after I finished vocal directing The Wizard of Oz in June, I felt a big hole. I had spent months working on this beautiful show, and it was all over in four days. What was I doing? I asked myself. Is it all meaningless?

I needed someone to shine a light through my fog, so this morning I had breakfast with my friend KW (who was the director of The Wizard of Oz and my musical, Five Children and It.) As she talked about collaboration and worship and God and all things dear to her heart, she couldn't hold back her tears. I just sat and listened. 

Hours later, I thought about her words, and it was then that my fog lifted. This is the vision I have now:

The shows I work on are like apples (or fill in with your favorite fruit here.) Most people will eat an apple, appreciate it, and enjoy it in the moment. They probably will not think about where the fruit came from, beyond the grocery store they bought it at. I, on the other hand, was there before the apple even started growing. I cared for the tree, saw the blossoms, and tended the apples as they grew. I worked alongside the Creator to ensure a sweet, beautiful crop. And in the end, when I enjoyed a bite of the apple, I could think back to the day I first saw the tiny apple growing on the tree. And I could be proud of the work I've done, even after the apple is gone.

So now I see that being an artist is an amazing blessing, not a curse. The world may not value it as such, but that's okay. I'm working with God to cultivate food for the soul!

Who Does She Look Like?

When I look at you

I don't see your sister

Nor your brother

Nor your father

Nor even me

When I look at you

I see the Designer

the Artist

the Architect

the Sculptor

the Engineer

the Knitter

the Scientist

the Musician

the Writer

the One who gifted me with this work of art

and allowed me to hold His masterpiece

this six pound eleven ounce masterpiece

in my arms

Food for Our Souls

My dad could have been a musician.

But growing up in Hong Kong, he was cooking for his family by the time he was twelve and supporting himself through college. As an adult, he still had a desire to learn the piano and study music theory (and for the longest time, we had two old violins that moved with us from house to house), but he never found the time.

My mom too could have been a musician.

I would hear her singing as she worked in the kitchen, her soprano voice ringing through the house. But her father was a portrait photographer who worked out of his family's small apartment, and her mom was an illiterate child-bride, so my mom relied on scholarships just to get through school.

It was through the church that my parents found an outlet for their love of music. They both became Christians in high school, and singing hymns was the perfect way for their hearts to express the musical joy that they had always felt. And when my sister and I came along, my parents made it a priority to buy a piano and find us piano teachers.

Today, I'm a piano teacher and music teacher. If not for my music teachers when I was young, I may not have had the chance to develop my skills. And I think often of my parents as children, and other children who are in situations like theirs. When I see my children (or anyone else's children) sing and dance on stage and I see the pure joy and the free innocence on their faces, my eyes always fill with tears. I know that this is what heaven will be like. And I want to give ALL children that bit of heaven on earth.

Music and the arts may not be the most practical skill, but I have learned from our "Covid" season that though we may look to science and medicine to heal our bodies, we must look to the arts to heal our souls. Music is one of the signs that we are more than robots and machinery; simply putting food in us and fighting off disease is not enough to keep humans alive–we need beauty to thrive! More than that, God gave us the wondrous gift of music, and music is a gift we can give back to God! The Bible is full of verses that say "sing to the Lord" and "make music to the Lord"!

So think of ways that you can grow the next generation of artists and musicians. You don't need to be an award-winning professional. You just need to have the love and the desire to pass on this love. Support the arts by attending youth events or donating to non-profits like Christian Youth Theater (shameless plug here: CYT Tri-valley). Ask the young painters, singers, writers, and dancers in your life about what they do. Remember, the arts are more than extracurricular or "just a hobby" or steps towards a job or career. Music and the arts are essential to our beings; they are food and medicine for our souls!

No Words

"Aaaaaaaargh!"

Sometimes there are no words for how you are feeling.

On Thursday, I wanted to raise my eyes to the heavens and scream.

I wanted to ask God, "Why?!?!?!? Why did she get cancer??!??! Why couldn't You heal her???!!"

Because it hurts. It hurts again. Another friend has passed away after months of praying. I just want to know why.

God says He cares for the sparrows. But I've found baby sparrows dead, fallen from the nest, too late for me to save them. And it happens again and again.

And this happens again and again. Another friend has lost a daughter. Another friend has lost a wife. In two and half years, I've said good-bye to six friends, three of them to cancer.

And I have no words.

It's hard to praise God at times like this. I admit it. I praise Him through gritted teeth and streaming tears, like an angry child who doesn't understand but won't argue the fact that his parent loves him. 

So I keeping praising Him–for what He knows that I don't know, and what He can see that I can't see.

The finite human mind cannot reach into the recesses into the infinitely transcendent mind of God. But the end of understanding does not mean the end of trust or love or obedience. ~Gregory Floyd

If you are grieving right now, for whatever reason, know that it's okay to tell God how you feel. Or, if you don't have the words, just raise your eyes to the heavens and scream. I'm not going to try to explain grief, or suffering, or God's will, but if you would like to read more, I recommend C.S. Lewis's book "A Grief Observed." If someone you know is grieving, I recommend Nancy Guthrie's book "What Grieving People Wish You Knew about What Really Helps".

What I've Learned during Covid

Recently, I learned something about myself.

I walked into the kitchen and saw a mountain of pots and pans in the sink, leftover from breakfast and lunchtime. 

Ugh, I said to myself. I knew I had to tackle them before dinner prep started. 

I took a step toward the sink, my eyes locked on the dishes, daring them to look away...  and I lost the staring contest.  I turned and decided I'd rather bake something instead (even if that meant more dishes.) 

Then, while the pumpkin pasties were in the oven, awaiting my consumption, I started washing and cleaning up. Funny, how at that point, I didn't mind doing the dishes.

What did I learn?

That it's not the kitchen that I like, but the food. I'm not really in the kitchen unless there is en enticing, tasty reason to be.

Here is something else I've learned from these recent months: what is essential, and what is merely an inconvenience.

Wearing a mask is an inconvenience, when people are losing their jobs and losing their loved ones.

Writing a card and putting it in the mail, or baking banana bread and dropping it off at someone's house, is an inconvenience, when there are people who are lonely and missing friends and family.

Packing up enough fold-up chairs for a family of 10, along with toys, crayons, and lunches for the little ones as we attend the 11:00 outdoor service is an inconvenience, when it means that we can gather with our church family for worship.

Do you see what I mean?

Even today, when the sun was shining too brightly and the black top started warming up to uncomfortable temperatures, I thought to myself, "This is merely an inconvenience! What is better than being with my church family on Palm Sunday?!"

And I pray that you learn this lesson too. There are so many non-essential details in life that we can complain about, but if we really focus on what is important, we will find that those details don't really matter anymore.

What have you learned during this Covid time?

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?

Grains of Sand

I reread an old post from December 2011 and found it to be encouraging, in light of my latest post. These photos show grains of sand, courtesy of Professor Gary Greenberg and his book, Grains of Sand. To our naked eyes, sand looks like tiny brown rocks. But when magnified, we can see that each grain is amazingly unique.

Not only that, some are precious gems, just so minute that we don't realize it. Can you imagine... if God can make each individual grain of sand so beautiful, how much more does He care for us? God is in even the tiniest details!

We look at sand and think of it as ordinary and unremarkable, but let us remember that oftentimes the "ordinary" can be extraordinary! We may pass our time daydreaming of doing "bigger" things, when what is important and beautiful is right under our feet: time with our children, calling an old friend, inviting a neighbor over.

Popping the Bubble

Over the years, I had found that being a homeschooling mom who works from home and whose husband is a pastor means that my world can be very small. If you draw a Venn diagram of my friends and acquaintences, it would look more like one big circle instead of several overlapping circles.

Sheltering in place with Covid has not helped. The longer I stay home, the easier it gets to ignore the world around me and focus on my own little bubble of happiness.

Then recently, my family joined our church for an outdoor evening service. It felt a little strange at first, sitting in the parking lot, on a lawn chair, in a chalk-drawn circle, singing with masks on. But I started looking around me.

And this is what I saw: what used to be done inside a building, behind walls and out of sight, was now being done in the open. People were gathered, singing and praying together. Everyone who drove by, biked by, walked by, or flew by could see us worshipping God. They could see me worshipping God! I was always shy about worshiping and praying in public, even when inside with people I know, and now I was doing it outside.

If nothing else, Covid has brought God's people all around our country out of their buildings. And I hope that we are doing more than just singing in parking lots. Let's get out of our bubbles! What can you do today?

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.)

Purpose in the Futility

"Do I even need to get dressed anymore?"

A popular question nowadays. It makes me wonder if I'm being a bad mom for making my kids dress everyday, and more on Sundays.

But I get it. The novelty of wearing PJs all day (or at least pajama bottoms when we have conference calls) is diminishing. Here in California, we have been sheltering in place for 5 weeks, and for some of us, there just doesn't seem to be a purpose in our days anymore. We get out of bed... for what? Read some books, watch some TV, eat some food, look at the news on Covid-19, go back to bed, do it again the next day. 

If you are feeling this way–listless, bored, purposeless, teetering on the edge of depression–I hope to encourage you with stories of some well-known biblical heroes, namely Joseph, Esther, and Daniel.

Joseph was sold into slavery, living in Egypt, miles away from his family.

Esther, a Jewish girl growing up under Persian rule, was taken to be a part of the Persian king's harem.
Daniel was taken captive to live in Babylon under King Nebuchednezzar.

These three people all had reasons to be depressed. Their lives were turned upside down. They were far from their families. And they were in situations where they had to act under compulsion, or lose their heads. Surely they had days when they wondered, "Why? Why should I do this? Why should I even get up today?" It was difficult for them to see the purpose in what they were doing, or the purpose in what God was doing.

And yet, Joseph, Esther, and Daniel not only carried on, day by day, they excelled in their work. 

Joseph became the overseer of all his master's property.

Esther was chosen to be the new queen.
Daniel was a high advisor to king.

They had every reason to give in to their depression and trudge through their day, but they didn't. And God, with His purpose, used them in amazing ways! Genesis 39:3 tells us this about Joseph, "His master saw that the Lord was with him and that the Lord caused all that he did to succeed in his hands." A few chapters later, the Bible tells us that "Pharaoh said to his servants, 'Can we find a man like this, in whom is the Spirit of God?'" (Genesis 41:38 ESV)

And what was the result?

Joseph's reputation proceeded him and he eventually became the overseer of Pharaoh's property and saved the kingdom from a famine.

Likewise, Esther did her queenly duties and found favor with  the King, saving the Jewish people from genocide.
Daniel faithfully served the King Nebuchadnezzar, and his son Darius, who decreed that the kingdom will serve only Daniel's God after Daniel survived the lions' den. 

These past five weeks, I've been tempted to give in to depression. I'm just a suburban mom, not a nurse or doctor on the front lines. I certainly won't be saving the world by teaching piano lessons and making videos of my family singing! But we don't know God's purpose in all this. Our story, like the stories of Joseph, Esther, and Daniel, is much bigger than us. God is with us, He does have a purpose, and we can excel in spite of the situation! We can shine His light!

Galatians 6:9-10 reminds us: "And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith."

So here are some ideas to help you (as they have helped me) find purpose in your day:

1) Look heavenward and outward. Keep focused on God. Brainstorm ways to aid others.

1) Get out of your pajamas. What you wear can affect your mental outlook. 

2) Set up a plan to do something everyday–read the Bible,  call someone, or dig deeper into the Word with videos like the Bible Project.

3) Go outside and take in God's majesty. Take a walk. Or just step out onto your front step and look up at the sky. Read a book or eat lunch outside. The change of scenery and the fresh air will revive you.

4) Find reasons to celebrate: birthdays, half-birthdays, losing a first tooth, whatever! 

3) Send cards of encouragement, especially to those who are alone. Many residents in senior care homes cannot leave their rooms at this time. There are also people hurting in deeper ways right now. My friend's wife is in hospice care, and he can only visit her from afar. And I can't even offer a shoulder for him to cry on! Another friend's daughter is a first year out of medical school. She is caring for Covid-19 patients and recently lost her first patient. A gentle note reminds them that they are not alone.

4) Pick up a new hobby. Then use the new hobby to encourage people. My friend Angie has always wanted to learn how to watercolor, so she looked up some YouTube videos and started making these!

5) Healthcare workers, delivery people, and others in essential businesses are working long, taxing hours. If you have neighbors in these fields, offer to help with their grocery shopping, or bring them a meal. Put out snacks, wrapped toilet paper, face masks, or hand sanitizer on your porch for delivery people to take with them.

6) Do some research and see how you can help locally. Our local shelter for abused women and children needs food donations. The blood bank still needs blood.

7) Many missionaries are seeing situations more dire than ours, where families are out of work and starving, or children are basically orphans because their family is in the hospital. Contact missionaries through your church, Compassion International, World Vision, or other Christian organizations and ask how you can help.

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.

Thankful, Not Entitled

"You deserve it!"

All my life, I've heard this from advertisements, movies, TV shows, and well-meaning folk. I've heard it so much that now there is a voice in my head yelling it whenever I feel someone has wronged me somehow. Just this past week, after nights of coughing and bad sleep, I was impatient and grumbly with my family because I kept thinking, "I deserve a break! I deserve help! I deserve people listening to me with no question because I am sick!" Not to mention all the times when I am perfectly healthy but feel that "I deserve recognition" or "I deserve a better present" or "I deserve a nicer house."

But here's the truth: I don't deserve it. I don't deserve anything at all.

A mother loses a child. A wife loses a husband. A girl finds out she has cancer. A family loses their house. I have my children, my husband, my health, and my house. Did I do anything to deserve this? No, I am not anymore deserving than any other woman.

An attitude of entitlement is the opposite of a heart of thanksgiving. Telling myself that I deserve something, no matter how big or small that something is, only raises my expectations that people should give me what I want, and this breeds discontent, pride, and bitterness. I cannot be thankful if I don't receive everything as a gift.

And so this year, as Thanksgiving Day comes again, I am working on quieting that voice in my head in order to cultivate my heard of thankfulness. Instead of "I deserve", I tell myself "Be thankful." Be thankful for a husband who shows you love everyday, be thankful for children who are growing and learning, be thankful for a body that works with minimal pain, be thankful for a warm, safe home. 

And even if tomorrow I lose what I hold most dearly, God has given me the gift of His love and His mercy, which I can never, ever deserve. God has given me more gifts than I could have ever imagined: my family, my friends, and new mercies everyday.

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.

Hope When Days are Dark

I haven't written in a while because I didn't have the words.

After losing two friends to cancer, then finding out that our "pet" bird was put to sleep, then saying good-bye to some of my closest friends as they move across the country, then hearing that another friend's newborn has Down Syndrome and has trouble breathing and needs heart surgery, all within a month, I didn't know how to express all the thoughts and emotions in my heart and mind.

The world felt dark, and I found myself in a strange place.

Every time I went outside, I would take a breath and smile at the beauty my eyes beheld, and almost the very next second I would feel tears welling up inside me. Every time I started to sing in worship–sing songs of God's love and salvation–I choked on the words and more tears fell from my eyes. I was having a difficult time reconciling the beauty of the world with the sadness in it. And how the God of love and joy could allow this pain in our stories.

The only thing that kept me going was hope, and not the kind of hope that is really just wishful thinking (this hope disappoints), but the kind of hope that knows, the hope founded in my faith in the God of love and joy. I know that even in the darkness, a Light shines. I know that the darkness would not consume me, even as I felt crushed underneath its weight. I know that whatever happens, the baby, the move, the bird, the cancer, will lead to something good. These stories are not over. 

I don't have all the answers. I haven't stopped shedding the tears. But hope allows me to laugh and smile and continue to strive to love and heal this broken world.  

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. 
~Hebrews 11:1

On Being the Older Woman (part 2)

This morning we had at our church what we call 'Fusion Sunday'. This means that the high school and middle school ministry leaders are on a break (or a retreat) and all the teenagers join the adults for the morning service.

I don't know what your opinion is on teenagers, but I LOVE 'Fusion Sunday's. When we stood up to sing, I could see my oldest son towering over me, and my oldest daughter on the other side of him, both singing with me. From where I stood, I also saw four young men sitting front row center. These teenagers did not choose to slump in the back row so that they can scroll through the phones during the service. They were worshipping with all their hearts and listening intently to every word the pastor said.

"Here is the next generation of leaders," I told myself. "I need to pray for them."

It's popular nowadays for people to attend the same church but separate for worship services: teenagers go here, college students go there, senior citizens can attend the 'hymns' only service, children go to the nursery. We find it easy to group with people who are most like us, but if we continue to do this, churches will either become more and more homogenous or more and more detached. And like I mentioned in my last post, we need the older generations, because we learn from them. Which means our younger generations need to spend time with us too.

In a short ten years, our teenagers will be our adults and our toddlers will be our teenagers. What are you doing to ensure that the baton is passed?

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.

Craft Ideas for Busy Moms

Because I don't have much free time, my creativity usually comes out in my cooking and baking. But I find that if I go for too many months without doing something artsy, I become disgruntled. I need to do art because it feeds my soul. I love seeing my environment beautified by something that came from my own two hands. And as much as I enjoy feeding my family, sometimes I just want to make something that won't get devoured in two minutes flat! 

First, let me say that I don't consider myself to be a crafter, and this is not a craft blog. But I do enjoy making quick and simple decorations for my home, and I've learned how I can make that happen even with little ones. For years, I tried to do art, then grew so frustrated that I would abandon it for a while, only to try again because I needed it so much. It took me a while to figure out how to balance my creative time with my mothering time. So if you like arts and crafts, I'm excited to share with you what I've learned!

Second, I need to say that if you're a new-ish mom (or even a veteran mom), tell yourself not to feel guilty about taking some time to do something you love. I don't really believe in "me" time, but I do believe in "God" time, which means enjoying God by doing what He created you to do! Whether you need to go out for a bike ride or jog, play the piano, read a book, refinish a table, catch up with a friend over coffee… if it refreshes you, do it! You may feel like you're abandoning your post, but you'll actually be a better (and happier) mom when you reunite with your kids!

And now, on to the projects! 

My criteria for crafts is that 1) they do not require long periods of attention or many days and 2) I use as many found objects as I can (meaning I spend as little money as possible). I love the challenge of creating something new from something old!

The first project is the welcome wreath pictured above. I made that today in just a few hours after I saw a similar wreath on the blog Elegant Nest. I love birch trees and I love music, so what is better than making birch tree-like bark out of music paper? The heart is shaped from an old wire hanger, and the 'welcome' from some bendy wire I found in the garage. I wrapped the ends of the 'welcome' wire around the heart, then duct taped them in place. Next, I cut up old piano music into strips, then used Mod Podge (available at craft stores) to wrap them around all the wire. (I brush the Mod Podge onto the strip of paper first, then wrap. Warning- it gets pretty sticky.) Lastly, I took some dead branches from a bush in our front yard. While carefully holding them in place, I wrapped paper (with Mod Podge) around the end of the branch, just enough to keep them from shifting. I also made sure the branches blended into the wire, so it looked as if the branches were growing out from the heart. If you look carefully, you will see three little butterflies I added as the finishing touch. Though I think I might add some color later… like many of my projects, it's a work in progress! (more about that in my next post!) 

Next is this all-occasion banner that came about when I grew tired of hanging store-bought paper "happy birthday" signs. I had a lot of felt on hand, which is perfect if you want a sewing project that requires no sewing! The triangles are actually diamond shapes folded in half to go around the string. I did end up stitching the letters and triangles on (using a simple straight stitch) but you can easily make a banner with just felt and glue. Bonus–you can work on one letter a day.



Here is another banner-type decoration. I found that I had lots of fabric scraps that were too small for any big project, but perfect for making a "rope" to hang things on.  I pulled out fabrics of similar color, cut them into small strips (about 1/2 inch by 3 inches), and knotted them together, end to end, until I reached my desired length. The "rope" is perfect for hanging children's artwork, signs, or photos because the knots keep things from sliding around. And it also adds a touch of color to any room! I have the blue/yellow rope pictured here, and also a red/green rope for Christmas. I use my Christmas one to hang cards as they arrive in the mail.

Another quick project is arranging pressed flowers in an old frame. Flowers can be pressed in between the pages of any book (put things on top of the book to press down on the flowers), then glued onto paper using simple white glue (like Elmer's). Sometimes I collect wildflowers on my walks, just to have pressed flowers on hand when I feel the urge to be artsy! These two frames hang in my main bathroom.

Then of course, I have my ever-handy chalkboard. I used to get so frustrated because my art would get ruined by a child, or I messed up my own artwork when a child disrupted me. With chalk, I can wipe it clean and try again, and again, and again. I can work on it for a few minutes at a time and not worry about the paint drying while I step away to change a diaper. Big chalkboards can be pretty pricey, so make your own if you have a big frame that you no longer need. All you need is a bottle of chalkboard paint from the art store. I actually recommend this, because many of the chalkboards on sale now have a slick surface, which is good for chalk markers, but not as good for real chalk. And real chalk is still pretty cheap–just buy a box of white ones like the ones we used to use in school!

If you have questions about any of the projects, please ask. As always, if you have ideas to share, feel free to do so! I'm always up for trying new things! And I hope you feel inspired to do something artsy today, even if it's only for ten minutes!

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.)