"Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God!" (1 John 3:1)
I shivered, pulling my scarf and jacket closer to shut out the cold night air.
"Biao Jiu Jiu! Uncle!"
Dad and I turned to see a round middle-aged woman and a petite girl wave and rush up to us. The woman turned out to be my grandmother's niece, and the girl her niece and my second cousin Tsai Rui. I named her Raina. Sixteen-year old Raina had short-cropped hair, rosy cheeks, and dark eyes that sparkled when she spoke. They led us down the dark street through a doorway into a crowded apartment filled with more relatives and cigarette smoke. We didn't stay long, but the bare walls, sparse furnishings, and the awkward silence of things unsaid left a deep impression on my heart that I lived in a vastly different world.
Raina and I chatted easily through dinner. She was learning English, and I was trying to pick up more Shanghainese, so we practiced over a feast of curled cucumber, jellyfish, deep-fried breaded toad, fried breaded corn, sesame cakes, and much more. Two hours later and a good deal fuller, my faithful father briefly shared the Gospel with them, we took some family photos and then went our separate ways.
Over the next few days, my mind drifted to that dinner and to the many other experiences in Shanghai that I had only known through history textbooks and family stories... watching my aunt and uncle bike home forty minutes in the chilly autumn night... strolling through the halls of a school decked with portraits of Engel, Marx, Lenin, and Mao... praying with my eyes open... watching policemen scrutinize a friend's business license... wondering what life would be like as an only child... The more I pondered, the more questions spilled over into my prayers--
"Why-- of all my relatives-- did You choose to place me in America? Why did You save my parents so that I could grow up in a Christian family? Why was I born an American citizen instead of a Communist? What in the world would life have been like without Grace, Faith, and Tim? Why was I born Karen Chen instead of Raina Tsai?"
The Lord gave me no deep theological insights... only the simple reminder that He loves me so very much... far more than I will ever know. I am forever indebted to my Savior. So now I ask, "What shall I render to the Lord for all His benefits toward me?" (Psalm 116:12)
______________________________
"Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him." (1 Corinthians 2:9)
______________________________
Soul Lemonade, No. 3
Shanghai, China
Sunday, November 03, 2002
Tuesday, October 01, 2002
A Case of Kitchenphobia
"And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance; for you serve the Lord Christ" (Colossians 3:23-24).
Anyone who knows me well has no misconceptions about my cooking skills: I am about as comfortable in a kitchen as a polar bear would be in Taiwan. For this year's fellowship potluck, Faith coaxed me out of my comfort zone and persuaded me to "go where I had never gone before." In other words, I decided to attempt a dish I knew only by taste-- not by recipe.
I awoke Saturday morning, muscles taut and soul tensed for the day's challenges. I donned my new apron and tried to make sense of the recipe. Thank God for Faith, who coached me through the process ("Boil the water before you peel the potatoes... Dump out the water and let them cool before you try to peel them.") and for Mom who helped me with the work when time was running away from me. As I neared the final stretch, I encountered a big dilemma: "season to taste." To whose taste? My complacent taste buds are easily satisfied. Was it too salty? Too bland? Too--? How was I to know what others would like? As I scooped my dish into a plastic container, I had a sinking feeling that all my hard work would only pass as "average" in comparison to other dishes. No one would know the sweat and worries I had invested in that meager offering. And then the Lord reminded me of something I had read earlier that week in Keep a Quiet Heart:
My resolve began to waver, when I walked into the fellowship hall to hear "oohs" and "aahs" (and near drooling) over dishes far more exquisite than mine. Not wanting to draw any undue attention to myself, I dropped off my box and occupied myself far away from the serving tables. When the potluck concluded, most people took home empty pots and containers, while I had to swallow my pride and quietly put my box-- still partially full-- back in my bag.
But that was OK. I knew the Lord had a far deeper lesson for me to learn than simply cooking. He used the potluck to teach me once again that true servanthood is to do all things for no one's praise but His. He knew what I had done-- and that was enough.
______________________________
"I never made a sacrifice. Of this we ought not to talk when we remember the great sacrifice which He made Who left His Father's throne on high to give Himself for us." ~ David Livingstone
______________________________
PS: My hat goes off to all family and friends who cook day in and day out... for God's glory and not their own.
Soul Lemonade, No. 2
Taipei, Taiwan
Anyone who knows me well has no misconceptions about my cooking skills: I am about as comfortable in a kitchen as a polar bear would be in Taiwan. For this year's fellowship potluck, Faith coaxed me out of my comfort zone and persuaded me to "go where I had never gone before." In other words, I decided to attempt a dish I knew only by taste-- not by recipe.
I awoke Saturday morning, muscles taut and soul tensed for the day's challenges. I donned my new apron and tried to make sense of the recipe. Thank God for Faith, who coached me through the process ("Boil the water before you peel the potatoes... Dump out the water and let them cool before you try to peel them.") and for Mom who helped me with the work when time was running away from me. As I neared the final stretch, I encountered a big dilemma: "season to taste." To whose taste? My complacent taste buds are easily satisfied. Was it too salty? Too bland? Too--? How was I to know what others would like? As I scooped my dish into a plastic container, I had a sinking feeling that all my hard work would only pass as "average" in comparison to other dishes. No one would know the sweat and worries I had invested in that meager offering. And then the Lord reminded me of something I had read earlier that week in Keep a Quiet Heart:
[God's] wisdom is perfect, His knowledge embraces not only all worlds but the individual hearts and minds of each of His loved children. With intimate understanding of our deepest needs and individual capacities, He chooses our curriculum. We need only ask, “Give us this day our daily bread, our daily lessons, our homework.” An angry retort from someone may be just the occasion we need in which to learn not only longsuffering and forgiveness, but meekness and gentleness; fruits not born in us but borne only by the Spirit. ("God Curriculum" by Elisabeth Elliot, p. 82)I took a deep breath and reminded myself that the Lord may have ordered this potluck, so that the Spirit could bear meekness and humility in my life. Balancing my tupperware container and Grace's beautiful plate of seven-layer jello, I flagged down a taxi, purposing not to compare with others, not to measure my success or failure by other people's tastebuds.
My resolve began to waver, when I walked into the fellowship hall to hear "oohs" and "aahs" (and near drooling) over dishes far more exquisite than mine. Not wanting to draw any undue attention to myself, I dropped off my box and occupied myself far away from the serving tables. When the potluck concluded, most people took home empty pots and containers, while I had to swallow my pride and quietly put my box-- still partially full-- back in my bag.
But that was OK. I knew the Lord had a far deeper lesson for me to learn than simply cooking. He used the potluck to teach me once again that true servanthood is to do all things for no one's praise but His. He knew what I had done-- and that was enough.
______________________________
"I never made a sacrifice. Of this we ought not to talk when we remember the great sacrifice which He made Who left His Father's throne on high to give Himself for us." ~ David Livingstone
______________________________
PS: My hat goes off to all family and friends who cook day in and day out... for God's glory and not their own.
Soul Lemonade, No. 2
Taipei, Taiwan
Monday, September 16, 2002
Incline My Heart to Do Thy Will
"Because she has set her love upon Me, therefore I will deliver her; I will set her on high, because she has known My name" (Psalm 91:14, personalized).
When I want something, manipulation usually kicks into high gear. That is why, when Dad offered me a window of opportunity to return to the US with him this month, it was next to impossible for me to discern God's will. I certainly knew why I wanted to go, and I could definitely make it worth everyone's while if I went. Yet I had a nagging feeling that dozens of good reasons would not suffice. I needed divine confirmation, and so I prayed, "Incline my heart to do Thy will."
Did He answer my prayer? Yes, and here's how--
Memo of events surrounding the "big decision":
Someone once said, "Hold all things loosely, but hold tightly onto God." Despite my September 2 confirmation, I tried desperately to keep my hopes in check, to continue praying, "Incline my heart..." The one thing that kept us from booking our tickets and packing our bags was Typhoon Sinlaku. Throughout that week, Dad and Tim checked the position of the typhoon. When the forecast said it would hit on Thursday, the typhoon conveniently slowed its pace enough to threaten our departure date (Saturday). The winds howled, as we gathered at the conference table Friday morning. We knew God was closing the door-- it was our turn to surrender.
Was I disappointed? Yes. "Hope deferred makes the heart sick..." (Proverbs 13:12). Yet I also knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was the will of my Lord and Master, who bought me with His life. I had prayed that He would incline my heart to do His will... and I was ready to surrender without a fight.
When UA 844 chose to brave the storm, when Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny without a cloud in sight, my brother muttered something about the "irony" of it all. Yes, it was definitely ironic that one of the deciding factors turned out not to be a factor at all. On the flip side, I cannot help but feel awed that the Lord of the universe orchestrated a multitude of circumstances-- even churned a storm bigger than Taiwan-- to incline my heart to do His will. If He went to such great lengths for me, how could I not surrender so small a desire to Him?
______________________________
"The way I see it, we ought to be willing to die. In the military, we were taught that to obtain our objectives we had to be willing to be expendable. Missionaries must face that same expendability." ~ Nate Saint
______________________________
Soul Lemonade, No. 1
Taipei, Taiwan
When I want something, manipulation usually kicks into high gear. That is why, when Dad offered me a window of opportunity to return to the US with him this month, it was next to impossible for me to discern God's will. I certainly knew why I wanted to go, and I could definitely make it worth everyone's while if I went. Yet I had a nagging feeling that dozens of good reasons would not suffice. I needed divine confirmation, and so I prayed, "Incline my heart to do Thy will."
Did He answer my prayer? Yes, and here's how--
Memo of events surrounding the "big decision":
Sept 1 - "Incline my heart to do Thy will..."
Sept 2 - I receive "confirmation" to proceed with plans to go.
Sept 3 - Grandpa Ho informs us that Typhoon Sinlaku is approaching Taiwan.
Sept 6 - Dad reconsiders the trip in light of the coming typhoon
and pressing office responsibilities. We decide to cancel flight reservations.
Sept 7 - UA 844 takes off 2 hours and 50 minutes after the
scheduled departure and presumably arrives in San Fran without catastrophe.
Sept 8 - Typhoon Sinlaku veers toward China.
Someone once said, "Hold all things loosely, but hold tightly onto God." Despite my September 2 confirmation, I tried desperately to keep my hopes in check, to continue praying, "Incline my heart..." The one thing that kept us from booking our tickets and packing our bags was Typhoon Sinlaku. Throughout that week, Dad and Tim checked the position of the typhoon. When the forecast said it would hit on Thursday, the typhoon conveniently slowed its pace enough to threaten our departure date (Saturday). The winds howled, as we gathered at the conference table Friday morning. We knew God was closing the door-- it was our turn to surrender.
Was I disappointed? Yes. "Hope deferred makes the heart sick..." (Proverbs 13:12). Yet I also knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was the will of my Lord and Master, who bought me with His life. I had prayed that He would incline my heart to do His will... and I was ready to surrender without a fight.
When UA 844 chose to brave the storm, when Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny without a cloud in sight, my brother muttered something about the "irony" of it all. Yes, it was definitely ironic that one of the deciding factors turned out not to be a factor at all. On the flip side, I cannot help but feel awed that the Lord of the universe orchestrated a multitude of circumstances-- even churned a storm bigger than Taiwan-- to incline my heart to do His will. If He went to such great lengths for me, how could I not surrender so small a desire to Him?
______________________________
"The way I see it, we ought to be willing to die. In the military, we were taught that to obtain our objectives we had to be willing to be expendable. Missionaries must face that same expendability." ~ Nate Saint
______________________________
Soul Lemonade, No. 1
Taipei, Taiwan
Sunday, September 08, 2002
Recipe for Soul Lemonade
"As cold water to a weary soul, so is good news from a far country" (Proverbs 25:25).
"Yi, er, san, si..." I think the idea hit me in the middle of Grandpa Ho's calisthenics. Between stretches, I glanced at the sheet above the kitchen sink, trying to etch Proverbs 25 onto my long-term memory. Yesterday morning, verse twenty-five caught my eye: "As cold water to a weary soul, so is good news from a far country" (Prov 25:25). My mind drifted back seven years to the early days of "missionary life" in Taiwan. In those days, email was still a foreign concept, so I spent most of my free time writing letters, hoping that in so doing, I could procure more "cold water" for my homesick soul.
Times have changed. Technology has made correspondence as easy as hitting "Enter" on my ThinkPad. On the other hand, free time is fast becoming a foreign concept. As time continues to slip through my fingers, I've discovered that not only have some of my friendships suffered, but my walk with the Lord has also grown stale.
What to do? When I shared with the students in Taoyuan on "Loving God," I challenged them to examine their thoughts and conversation-- does anything occupy their conversation and preoccupy their minds more than Christ? This past week, the Lord turned the tables on me and challenged me to examine the basis of not only my friendships, but also of my thoughts and conversation. Does my life truly revolve around Him?
For the past year, I have sensed my love for the Lord waning. One indication is that He does not dominate my thoughts and conversation. So... I was wondering if you might be willing to help me, to hold me accountable. If you don't mind, I'd like to share some "soul lemonade"-- lessons I'm learning from the Lord-- from time to time. My prayer is that writing will help deepen my love for the Lord and sharpen my mind's eye to view life from His perspective. And perhaps-- it will also refresh your soul in the process... like a glass of ice-cold lemonade on a hot summer day.
Oh-- and thanks in advance for reading.
______________________________
Soul Lemonade, Introduction
Taipei, Taiwan
"Yi, er, san, si..." I think the idea hit me in the middle of Grandpa Ho's calisthenics. Between stretches, I glanced at the sheet above the kitchen sink, trying to etch Proverbs 25 onto my long-term memory. Yesterday morning, verse twenty-five caught my eye: "As cold water to a weary soul, so is good news from a far country" (Prov 25:25). My mind drifted back seven years to the early days of "missionary life" in Taiwan. In those days, email was still a foreign concept, so I spent most of my free time writing letters, hoping that in so doing, I could procure more "cold water" for my homesick soul.
Times have changed. Technology has made correspondence as easy as hitting "Enter" on my ThinkPad. On the other hand, free time is fast becoming a foreign concept. As time continues to slip through my fingers, I've discovered that not only have some of my friendships suffered, but my walk with the Lord has also grown stale.
What to do? When I shared with the students in Taoyuan on "Loving God," I challenged them to examine their thoughts and conversation-- does anything occupy their conversation and preoccupy their minds more than Christ? This past week, the Lord turned the tables on me and challenged me to examine the basis of not only my friendships, but also of my thoughts and conversation. Does my life truly revolve around Him?
For the past year, I have sensed my love for the Lord waning. One indication is that He does not dominate my thoughts and conversation. So... I was wondering if you might be willing to help me, to hold me accountable. If you don't mind, I'd like to share some "soul lemonade"-- lessons I'm learning from the Lord-- from time to time. My prayer is that writing will help deepen my love for the Lord and sharpen my mind's eye to view life from His perspective. And perhaps-- it will also refresh your soul in the process... like a glass of ice-cold lemonade on a hot summer day.
Oh-- and thanks in advance for reading.
______________________________
Soul Lemonade, Introduction
Taipei, Taiwan
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