Dear Joy.

Dear Joy,

I don't know what your parents would have named you, or maybe already did, but in my head I named you Joy because I knew you would bring them more joy than they would've imagined if they had decided to keep you. I am so sorry.

Their actions communicated that they didn't want you. That they saw down's syndrome as some sort of blight. I wish they hadn't. I can't understand how they did it especially when I know that being a mother and feeling a baby's movement inside one's own body is already the beginning of a bond, the fact that there is life in there no matter how much they argue it's just a fetus. How did they disengage from knowing you? How did they shut out the voice of God that tells them what is right and to not value a comfortable life over something more difficult but worthwhile and lasting? Dear Joy, it was not fair.

Dear Joy, we thought about adopting you. We were going to bring it up but they had already gone through with it and you were already in heaven. When I found out, my heart dropped and I asked the Lord to hold you in His arms, hold you close under the shadow of His wings. I know that's what He did but I had to ask anyway.

It's not fair my dear little Joy. I wish abortion had never been possible. There are millions of other little ones with you in heaven aren't there? I want you to know that you were wanted and you are loved. They may try to sweep you under the rug and act as if you never existed but you live on in my memory. Dear Joy, I wish they had given you a chance at life. We will meet one day in Heaven.

---

Satan Hates the Little Children of the World

In his book Adopted for Life, Russell Moore says that Satan hates children and always has. History would say the same. In Scripture alone, we see the slaughter of the infants in Pharaoh’s Egypt and Herod’s Bethlehem. Every time the demonic powers forcefully oppose Jesus, “babies are caught in the crossfire.” Moore explains,

Whether through political machinations such as those of Pharaoh and Herod, through military conquests in which bloodthirsty armies rip babies from pregnant mothers’ wombs (Amos 1:13), or through the more “routine” seeming family disintegration and family chaos, children are always hurt. Human history is riddled with their corpses. (63)

“There is a war on children, and we are all, in one way or another, playing some role in it.”

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Whether we look back over the pages of world history, or just around us today, the point bears true. Children are so often caught in the crossfire, so often hurt, so often the victims of a larger conflict in which they have no say, no influence, no responsibility. It happened back when primitive peoples thought slaying their children would appease the gods, and when war meant burning homes and sacking villages. And it happens still today when deranged citizens carry guns into elementary schools, or when abortion clinics welcome terrified teenagers with open arms, or when Boko Haram pillages another Nigerian village, or a young couple decides Down syndrome will disrupt their life plans. Moore writes,

The demonic powers hate babies because they hate Jesus. When they destroy “the least of these” (Matthew 25:40, 45), the most vulnerable among us, they’re destroying a picture of Jesus himself. (63–64)

There is a war on children, and we are all, in one way or another, playing some role in it. Every time we move forward as faithful parents (or care for kids in any capacity, including advocating for the voiceless not-yet-born, and volunteering for nursery duty on Sundays), we are wrestling demons — because there is little the demons hate more than little children. Read more here.

Just a Train of Thought.

Today was a rare day in that both my children napped at the same time. I used that time to prep dinner and make a marinade for the fish tonight. As I minced the garlic and ginger, smells from the sesame oil and soy sauce wafted over. Waiting for their compadres to join them. Garlic, ginger, and soy sauce are such staples in Asian cooking. I call them the holy trinity. Toss in something spicy like siracha or red pepper flakes and it's a winner. But anyway, I really enjoyed just mincing and prepping in the stillness of the kitchen and it occurred to me that I don't mind this home stuff at all-- it's just that I need to slow down and enjoy it.

Another thought I had today was how I wish all professions were paid the same. Yesterday I enrolled my son in the summer reading library program. They had three stations for us to sign up. The middle-school volunteers were so eager to explain the rules and how it worked to us. It was pretty funny because it's not rocket science or anything, but I let them talk. It was more because I could see how the responsibility weighed on them. To them, this was an important task and it's always good to respect what means a lot to people.  It also made me remember when I was a middle school-er and was volunteering at the library doing the exact same thing. It was what everyone else in my class was doing and we thought it'd make us look good for high school, then college applications. Seems silly now, but it was a good experience in responsibility and helping younger children.

At the library, they told us they were backed up with checking materials back in and I thought, "I wouldn't mind doing it." I love systematic things. I love functionality, organization, and putting things in order. When I was in 3rd grade, I wrote in my English essay about wanting to be a librarian and it's nice to know I still would. From grade school to college, I loved hanging out with the books. I'd spend all day in bookstores or libraries just reading. Alas, I miss you Borders! Maybe I'll volunteer there again when I'm older. Also it makes me happy to see my son start to love reading and I hope to cultivate that in our daughter as well.

Tangents. That's how my brain works.

But back to my point of all professions being paid the same. I think sometimes what holds people back from doing what they really want to do is the money because we need to make livings. If a teacher got paid the same as a professional athlete as the president as the garbage man, would they still choose that profession? Some things I'd love to do-- work in a flower shop and learn how to put bouquets together (and learn the names of all flowers), bake goodies in a bakery and get flour all over myself in the process, be a secretary and check out those beautiful staples while color coding things. What would you do if every profession was paid the same?

In the Valley.

Lord, high and holy, meek and lowly, 
Thou hast brought me to the valley of vision, 
where I live in the depths but see Thee in the heights; 
hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold Thy glory. 

Let me learn by paradox that the way down is the way up, 
that to be low is to be high, 
that the broken heart is the healed heart, 
that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit, 
that the repenting soul is the victorious soul, 
that to have nothing is to possess all, 
that to bear the cross is to wear the crown, 
that to give is to receive, 
that the valley is the place of vision. 

Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from deepest wells, 
and the deeper the wells the brighter Thy stars shine; 
let me find Thy light in my darkness, 
Thy life in my death, 
Thy joy in my sorrow, 
Thy grace in my sin, 
Thy riches in my poverty, 
Thy glory in my valley.

Eyes. Mind. Heart.

Article for myself: Turn my eyes from worthless things.

As Charles Spurgeon said, “It is the tendency of things that are gazed at to get through the eyes into the mind and the heart.” Worthless things in the eye, gazed at, become worthless things lodged in the heart. Our precious attention gets used for futile ends.

We understand this. Today we talk about “ingesting media” as though we eat it. Media goes inside of us, enters our bloodstream, and becomes a part of us. The Puritans used to call the eyes the “eye-gate,” an entrance into the heart. If you let worthless things linger in your eyes, you will inherently muse on their promises, the drawbridge of discernment will lower, and those worthless things will enter into your heart’s affections.

“Let not my eye betray my heart unto vanity” was a common Puritan prayer, echoing the resolve and prayer of the psalmist.

Ladybugs.

I was hanging a blanket out on the clothesline today and saw a ladybug. I let it crawl onto my hand and then it flew away. Moments are these are still magical to me. The elementary school I attended had these huge grass fields. I remember wandering through these fields in third grade at recess time with my friends. We would catch the ladybugs, see the different reds and oranges, count their spots, watch them fly. It was a lucky thing to find one. Silly as it may be, today is a good day because I found a ladybug.

The Everyday Question

I read this today:

The constant battle of motherhood is more subtle, more everyday, more hideable. At the center is one question: Will I sacrifice? Or as Oswald Chambers poses in My Utmost for His Highest. “[Am I] willing to spend and be spent; not seeking to be ministered unto, but to minister?”

The Everyday Question isn’t answered one time, with the birth of a child, with the planning of school, or with the decision to discipline. This question — Will I sacrifice? — is answered every day.

It’s answered when a child wakes early with a need, interrupting my quiet hour alone with the Lord.

It’s answered when a sick child keeps me from worship and adult interaction at church on Sunday mornings.

It’s answered when I am emotionally spent, but a child’s behavior requires my patient, purposeful response.

It’s answered almost every moment of the potty training process.

----

But I think this applies to everyone and not just mothers. This question of putting someone else's need before your own is applicable to fathers, to singles, to the elderly... to everyone. It's what God calls us to and He set the model for us when He willingly put Christ on the cross for us. 

“For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh.” (2 Corinthians 4:11)

“For the love of Christ controls us, because we have concluded this: that one has died for all, therefore all have died; and he died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised.” (2 Corinthians 5:14–15)

Breathe.

I have this one memory of lying on our gray couch holding my tummy. I was pregnant with Little A and the doctors had been concerned about her development and size. The entire third trimester was just watching and waiting. Lying there, I told her, "I just want to hold you and feel your heart beat against mine and know that you're okay."

I remembered this tonight as I was holding her,
watching her sleep in my arms,
feeling her tummy rise up and down
in small waves as she breathed in and out.
My baby is okay. 

Thank you Lord for two healthy children.

You breathe life into us.

Psalm 139:16

Mother's Day Grace.

Whenever I look at my son, I'm reminded that it was him who gave me the honor of being a mother.

Side tangent: He learned to put on his socks by himself recently. Every night after we've put him down to bed and closed his door, I hear his pitter patter footsteps. Apparently he's been getting out of bed, opening his sock drawer, taking a pair out, and putting on socks by himself. He's learned to put on his pants, too and sometimes he puts them on backwards. It's funny to see him run around with a drawstring on the back. I don't think I'll ever correct him because all too soon children become teenagers who will care all too much about what's right and what's wrong. The innocence makes it sweet.

Today is Mother's Day and something I shared with another mother beforehand is that I don't deserve to be celebrated in any way. I fail every day and the hardest thing for me is to extend grace to myself. I fail as a person, but motherhood has somehow highlighted my failures even more. I see my sins daily in my selfishness, impatience, or anger towards my children. Being tired definitely makes me more prone to sin, but it should not and cannot be an excuse for my sin. Then I realized I fail every day because I am a sinner.

But.

Christ died for me.

And when He did that, He bore my sins on the cross.

Today is not about how I am a mother and deserve acknowledgement for what I do, but about how God gave me the honor of being a mother. It is a calling He has entrusted me with to bless and sanctify. I will continue to fail but my family member's quickness to forgive is a reminder of His goodness and grace towards me and praise God for that.

A thousand times I failed

Still Your mercy remains

And should I stumble again

I'm caught in Your grace. 

The Bible.

I woke up this morning and made my way to the kitchen to get breakfast ready.

"I'm reading the Bible, mommy!" -3 years old and 1 month.

CJ was sitting there in the living room by himself looking through the picture Bible with eagerness and joy. From the mouth of babes. For a moment, I saw things through his eyes. What it must be like to open a book and have many untold stories. How he has to wait for someone to read it to him and teach it to him. And the best part? He is so ready to absorb it all. He wants to hear it and know it. He reminded me that I should approach my time in the Word with eagerness and joy as well. What can I learn today?

Sacrifice.

It's been a long time since I've written on this blog. I don't even know why, but life just got busy. Since I last wrote, we've been blessed with a baby girl. She's what I think is the epitome of a girl. She's sweet and will win you over with her smile, but she's complicated and has been much harder to figure out than our son. She's got some fire in her and will be vocal with what she wants. She reminds me of me and I told my husband the other day that I pray for her future husband because he is gonna have to be patient with this one! He just smiled because he knows.

Her last feeding at night is usually when I have time to sit and be still. We keep things dark and quiet so it's a better environment to reflect than my day feedings. During the day feedings, CJ likes to be wherever we are so he's usually building bridges and slides, jumping on the bed, and creating some amazing imaginary world. Little A loves watching him. Anyway, today I was doing her night feed and reflecting. I decided I wanted to write here again to document things in case my children would ever want to look back and see what I thought of at the time.

Parenthood is sacrifice. Everyone knows this but to live through it is something else. It is a sacrifice of your body, your sleep, your independence, your social life, your ability to serve at the capacity you served before. I thought I was tired with one. No. That was not tired. We had it easy! Parenthood is late nights, middle of the nights, early mornings tired. I miss having the time to myself and having time to connect with my husband. A good reminder of quality over quantity. My independence? It's shattered with juggling three schedules and learning how to roll with it. I miss being able to spend hours just reading the Bible and journaling. I miss serving in all the areas I'm passionate about. But you know what?

Every morning, CJ runs into my room looking for me. He'll say something and fogginess I usually miss it and respond with, "Huh? Ok. Want to sleep?" But on the days I catch it, I know he's running in to tell me the most important things on his heart. Some days it's about his trucks or toys. Other days it's about how he is sad he didn't say goodbye to daddy before he left for work. And still other days it's about how he peed or pooed. Kids are funny. But this is so special to me because he desires to tell me these things and I hope he'll always want to tell me whatever he's thinking or whatever is on his heart, no matter how trivial or grand it may be.

And every morning when I hear little A wake up in her crib, she gives me (and anyone else) the biggest smile that welcomes me. She grabs a finger, she'll hold on to my sleeve.

One of my favorite moments is when we read together and I have both children in my lap or around me. CJ will point and talk about many things in the book and pictures and little A will listen and soak. Let me hold them while they can still be held and want to be held.

These are the moments that make the sacrifice worth it. Small, significant moments. Praise God for these little souls. "Then children were brought to him that he might lay his hands on them and pray. The disciples rebuked the people, but Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 19:13-14)  Let that roll around in your mind and sit. For to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.

Since becoming a mother, I've only gone back to work part-time in order to stay home and take care of baby as well as manage the house. People often ask what I do during the day. Here's a glimpse of me and my life with a 9-month old. (Please note life with a 9-month old is way different than life with a newborn!)

Today

7:30am- Baby wakes up. Change and dress him. Nurse him. 

8-9am- Prepare and feed him breakfast (solids). This really takes 45 min to an hour! Put laundry in the wash.

9-9:45am- While he's playing in the living room, I clean the bathroom (floors, rug, sink, tub, toilet). Vacuum bathroom. bedroom, hallway, kitchen. Clean and organize the towel closet, throw away expired medication, and periodically get baby out from the fireplace which he's taken a fancy to crawling into. Seriously. I have to take him out at least 5 times in half an hour. Can't wait till the playpen arrives!

9:45-10am- Change and put baby down for nap.

10am- Finally eat breakfast (cookies the breakfast of champions). Do research on baby formula because we need to restock and reply to emails. Put first load of laundry in dryer and put second load of laundry in wash. Clean kitchen from making baby's breakfast earlier and plan baby's lunch menu. Wipe floors because he's been fascinated with throwing food on the floor these days.

11am- Prep baby's lunch. 

11:15am- Baby wakes up. Change his poo diaper. Attempt to nurse. 

11:30am- Get dried laundry, fold laundry, give baby lots of kisses while stopping him from crawling to the stairs. Did I mention we're getting a playpen? Can't wait. Play with him. Check work email briefly (and by brief I mean 30 seconds because baby is crawling towards the stairs again). 

11:45am- Nurse successfully this time. For moms going through the self-weaning process, I find CJ calms down to feed when I sing to him. Sing songs and play with baby. Put 2nd load of laundry in dryer. 

12pm- Hang out downstairs for a change of scenery. He practices standing and playing with his standing toy while I look at baby recipes for food ideas.

12:15-1pm- Baby's lunchtime (steamed asparagus tips, carrots, two broccoli florets to try, ground up turkey, tomato pasta,  yogurt leftover from breakfast,and banana for dessert) . I prep some dinner food. 

1pm- Wash baby (he gets so much food in his hair and ears) and change his outfit. Change diaper. Refill diaper wipes. Wipe floors. There are so many carrots on the floor. Wash his chair because there's food all over it, too. Order grocery or house supplies from google shopping express. GSE is amazing. Saves you a trip to the grocery store. Make my own lunch.

So while I'm trying to do all this, I put baby in his exersaucer toy by the window so he can watch cars go by. I'm washing his seat in the tub when I start hearing this rustling of a bag. I go outside only to find that he's pulled the trash out and poured all the trash around him. Amazing. I'm sure it's not just my baby that's a genius.

1:30-2pm- Do dishes. Get the 2nd load of laundry out. Change his diaper. Fish out the things in his mouth that he found on the floor. Today it was a piece of yarn.

2-3pm- Baby's naptime. Have I mentioned the best times are naptimes?

3-5pm- Today I had a chiropractor appointment (related to carrying a 20+ lb. baby) so a babysitter came. I am SO thankful for babysitters because they really give me the opportunity to do things I couldn't do otherwise with a baby in tow. If you are considering how to help friends who are new parents, offer to babysit! They can take naps, go grocery shopping, go to doctor appointments...etc. On days I don't have medical related appointments, I might take baby to the park, run errands with him, or just have a day in and continue to do more chores. More often than not, I usually have to start prepping baby's and our dinner around 4pm.

5-6pm- Nurse then feed baby dinner.

6-6:15pm- Give baby bath.

6:15-6:45- Husband and I will try to have dinner. It's usually interrupted in the middle by having to put baby down for sleep now because he's usually so tired by 6:30pm and super fussy. What does fussy look like? Mostly screaming. Ah, the life of a king baby. 

Of course not every day is like this, but it's definitely an accurate picture. Mondays are usually "cleaning Mondays", while Fridays are "floor Fridays". This just makes it easier for me to remember to clean the house since I work other days. On the days I work, it's a mad rush to get baby fed before I leave and have food prepared for him while I'm gone. Those are actually the most stressful days but I'm learning to just let go and be ok if not everything gets done on work mornings. I love being able to be at home to watch my son grow. It's not always easy with stinky poos and messy bibs, not to mention a high-energy and mobile baby. You also learn to eat what you can in minutes. But it is a blessing to be his best friend right now and to see him smile when I smile or bob his head when I sing. I know that by the time he's 5, he'll spend the majority of the day at school with peers and teachers instead of me so I really want to make the most of this time with him. I'm also really thankful for my husband who gives me this opportunity to be home and is super supportive. He helps me in the morning with getting baby up and at night with CJ's bathtime. We read stories together and it was daddy who CJ gave his first kiss to! Evening is really when we have downtime. That's when I get to read the Bible or other books I'm going through. That's also when my husband and I can take turns going out to our small groups and have fellowship with other adults. Most of all, it's a good time to remember that life isn't just about your baby. It needs to be about your walk with the Lord, your marriage, and your relationships/friendships with others, too. Things will never be the same once you have a child. You just don't have enough time for everything you did before. But this past year, I've learned that it's ok and it's about adapting, being flexible, and prioritizing. There you have it-- a day in the life of a mother with her 9-month old.

My Grandmother.

There are moments in the day when I am reminded of my grandmother who passed years ago. Like when I'm on my knees wiping the kitchen floor. Or when I'm washing the chinese vegetables. Or when I close the door quietly by turning the doorknob before it hits the post to make sure not a sound is heard.

My grandmother watched my siblings and I for about five years when I was in elementary and middle school. She moved from Hong Kong for the only purpose of helping her son and grandchildren. After going back to Hong Kong, I realize what a sacrifice that was to leave a place where you could speak the language, have a social life, and have mobility in traveling. At home, she would get on her knees to wipe the floors to make sure every speck was picked up. Although we have things like swiffer now, I still find myself getting on the floor to check those nooks and crannies. My grandma would soak the vegetables in a tub of water first to make sure all the bugs and stuff floated to the top before rinsing them all. I do that now only because I watched her do it. I close the doors and drawers quietly because my grandmother wanted my parents to sleep in on weekends while my siblings and I got up to watch Saturday morning cartoons. She taught us to be mindful of others.

She has since passed and I wish I could tell her how she impacted me in all the littlest ways. I wish she could see how I am taking care of the home and raising her great grandchild. And ask her how she made that tomato egg dish in only the way she did. Funny how there are some things we don't realize until habit and routine jog memory and heart.

Washing Rice

I grew up the eldest of four. I quickly learned that it mattered if you were the eldest daughter or the eldest son in an Asian family. My mom called me to do everything. I trailed after her with towels to wipe the floors she mopped. She'd call home in the mornings and afternoons from work to make sure I had vacuumed. She called me to cut the vegetables, plate the rice for everyone in the family, pour the coffee for her mah jeong friends, and get the milk bottle for my baby brother. I don't think I minded until I realized my brothers and sister got to watch tv and play while I was doing all this. It was almost a relief to go away for college because she was forced to ask someone else. And of course the task fell to my younger sister rather than the brothers. (I sometimes wonder what it's like for men who grew up in traditional Asian families with no sisters. Did they learn to do all these things?)

Today I'm married with a little boy on the way. I find that in making our home, things are not a chore anymore. I enjoy cleaning the bathroom and seeing it shine. I want to clean the stoves and microwave. I'm still learning to cook good food, but it makes me happy if my family enjoys the food.

As I washed the rice today, I found myself thinking. Rinse and drain. Rinse and drain. Rinse and drain. Until the rice water pours out clear. I found myself thinking about how life speeds by you the older you get, but there are little things that will stay the same. Like how to wash rice. The same thing I did as a little girl, I do now. Washing rice, doing dishes, and folding laundry can be quite cathartic. I'm thankful my mom made me do all those things because it's easier to to learn then than in college or post-college.

I'm sure not everyone shares that opinion and many probably see chores as a chore. But there's really something really sweet about being domestic.

And I look forward to teaching my little boy how to wash rice.

Peaches

I went fruit picking this weekend for the first time in my life. There weren't too many peaches or nectarines left since it was towards the end of the season, but it was still fun. It was also hard work. Being short, I had to crane my neck and I could only reach the fruit that was within arms length. This made finding a beautiful peach all the more worthwhile. This also increased my disappointment when I'd twist a seemingly peachy peach off and find out it was a bad fruit. What defines bad fruit? Anything with weird spots, bugs/holes, or bruises. Still, I left the farm pretty happy with my blue bucket full of good peaches.

Today, I was looking more carefully through my peaches when I found one with a small dark ring of mold on it. A wave of disappointment washed over me. But, thanks to my grandmother's example of saving anything possible, I washed it, took a knife, cut the dark part out and ate the rest of the peach. It was the sweetest peach I've ever had.

When I was picking through the fruit off the trees, I felt a bit of remorse for the peaches with blemishes. It was like that blemish defined that peach as one that was no longer worthy. Most people, including me, threw it to the ground to rot and decompose-- or be food for the flies. But I felt sad for these peaches. It was like all the effort and time they took to grow were for naught and they could not fulfill their true purpose of being eaten (and bring satisfaction to the eater--me). "They don't have feelings!", said the Boy. I know, but I still felt a bit sad.

Digging deeper, I realize why I related so much to these bad peaches. It's because we were all bad peaches to begin with. These bruises, worms, holes were our sins of lying, hating, desiring to do harm upon others. And God could have justly left us to rot, decompose, and be food for the flies. We could have easily been defined as "bad peaches". I guess this is where the rest of my analogy goes awry since Jesus did cut our sin out but didn't eat us...

But you get the picture. The peach I ate today touched me because it reminded me of how we were redeemed, not accidentally but purposefully, and how we can be the sweetest fruit to bring joy to others and to God.

For while we were still weak, 

at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. 

For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—

though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die—

but God shows his love for us 

in that while we were still sinners, 

Christ died for us.
(Romans 5:6-8 ESV)

Secure.

I sat there in my concert seat, observing others in the audience as my brother played Ravel's "Mother Goose". My eye landed on a brunette little boy. He was doing his best to sit still, trying to appreciate the music just like his father beside him. I was impressed by his maturity, being 5 or 6 years old, because it's hard to sit through a 2-hour concert.

His father, seeing his son's efforts, understood. He signaled for his son to crawl onto his lap and wrapped his arms around him. Safe in his father's arms, the little boy fell asleep. Safe in our Father's arms, we are secure. The father kissed his son's head. He is loved. Do you know there is such security in being loved so perfectly?

Quote of the day: "Delighting yourself in the Lord is an all-consuming, day-by-day quest to bring all of our desires into that one great desire, so that he does satisfy."-- John Piper

Life and Death.

Three years ago, I worked with a 2-year old who was struck suddenly with seizures. I saw him each week until he turned 3, because that's when the State mandates the switch to the public school system.

The daily seizures never stopped and I saw how tired his parents grew. I think about what it must be like to be those parents. To stay by the child's side throughout the night because you never knew when it would happen. To have tried to look for a cure or any possible relief and to find none. How it feels to see the child, once full of so much life, regress in his abilities and be muted because of constant medications and restrictive diets.

The memory of him and the patient, sacrificial love of his parents has never left me. When I found out how he was doing today, I got light-headed and had to lay down. As a 2.5-year old, he could label animals and colors. Today, he cannot talk at all. He was a child who loved running and sliding. Now he cannot move without a walker. He cannot dress, bathe, or feed himself.

When I worked with him, I'd be exhausted after an hour because he was one of those kids that would not sit. But if I knew that he wouldn't be able to run much longer, I would have run all the more with him. Life is short and we get blindsided by false comforts.

It is not natural for your child to pass before the parent, which is why I think I am mourning for the family knowing this possibility. Before one is a parent, one has hopes and dreams for what their child will become. With all this happening, I realize a parent really just wants the fullest life possible for their child.

I thank God they have a younger child and I pray he lives a natural life. I pray he brings them joy and love and hope. I wait for that day when God will come again and wipe away all tears. "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Revelation 21:4) Come soon.

We need thee,
we need thee,
we need thee every hour.

Small Things.

Last Tuesday was a day where everything that could go wrong did. This Tuesday was a complete 180!

• One of my autistic kids drew me a "Get Well Soon" card. He can't write too well so his para helped him write, but he drew a picture of me and him together. :)
• One of the moms walked over to Starbucks and got me hot chocolate. So considerate!
• The kid who could not stop complaining the week before... stopped! Horray!
• Spoke with a mom who was relieved we could communicate in Chinese about her son's progress. She told me he really liked me and was so happy when I let him pick a prize for his birthday. :)
• Crazy progress with a kid who could not say his "v" at all 2 weeks ago. He couldn't even tell the difference between the "b" and "v" sound. Now he's at 90%. What?! Connecting the dots fo reals!
• Finally helping the kid who stutters with the concept of pausing and chillin' on a lily pad. Yeee.
  
• Teachers are actually asking me to check their students out. They trust my professional opinion??????????????
  

It's the small things that matter, but whether I have the worst Tuesday or the best Tuesday, God is still good and sovereign. Thank you Jesus!

Random: My school pictures going downhill every year made me happy when I graduated senior year because I was DONE with them forever! Boy was I wrong. I got my school photos back but as a "teacher" this time. Who wants a 2x3 photo of yours truly on a bad hair day?!?

I Love You.

Today, I went to a child development center to assess one of the kid's speech/language development. As I was walking there, harried after getting lost, a group of six preschoolers walked past me. They were not in a straight line, but in their own disarrayed order which was oddly comforting for a person who tends to like order and efficiency. Maybe it was because they were connected by hand holding and goofy smiles. Anyway, as I was walking past, one of the little boys looked me in the eye and yelled, "I love you!". You know what happened next? All the little kids started yelling that.

"I love you!"

"I love you!"

"I love you!"

And just like that, all the frustration from the morning's traffic and lostliness and being an adult melted away. Later in the shower, where I have my deepest thoughts, I doubted the significance. They don't really love me. They don't know me. But the amazing thing about children is that they can! Those kids probably don't really love me, but they are quite capable of loving without a care to who you are, how much you make, or what you look like. So you know what is even better? When someone loves you despite all your faults or inadequacies to meet the world's standard.

Jesus loves me,
this I know.

What Would You Die For?

Today I attended my first baseball game of the season. I'm not a die hard fan, but it was fun to clap along and sing for the 7th inning stretch. I also saw people heckling others, almost getting into fights, and getting drunk. People were so open about something they loved and would go to any bounds to cheer for their home team.

But what would you die for? After coming home, my uncle called me immediately to the living room to hear a news report. Just a few hours earlier, a Texas Ranger fan fell to his death after trying to catch a baseball. The sad thing is that even after he dropped and was bleeding severely, he called out to the fans to make sure his young son was taken care of.

I wonder-- if he knew what would happen if he caught that ball, would he have done it? Was it worth it to lose your life? To leave behind your son and family? This man probably tried to catch the ball for his son, but oh-- it wasn't worth it. I wish I could have changed things. Instead, I am left knowing I need to be careful with what I am passionate about. What would I die for?

25.

25 Things I want to do sometime in no particular order.

1. Water flowers and make a bouquet for someone.
2. Work in the back of a bakery and knead some dough while surrounded by warm, comforting scents.
3. Build a sandcastle and get dirty.✓
4. Make sure everyone I love knows it.
   
5. No grudges! (✓ so far)
   
6. Read in a hammock.
   
7. Grow herbs and use them! Thyme and basil and rosemary, oh my! ✓
8. Donate things I don't need. ✓
9. Visit baby brother in college and wander around his beautiful campus. ✓
10. See my grandparents more.
11. A crazy hat party with my girlfriends. ✓
12. Help someone feel beautiful. ✓
13. Give generously.
14. Pray persistently.
15. Take a dance class and have fun!
16. Learn how to work the sewing machine.
17. Cook more dinners.✓
18. Give thanks. ✓
19. Be wise with my money.
20. Be wise with my time.
    
21. Write snail mail. ✓
22. Skydive. ✓
23. Work in an orphanage. ✓
24. Run a 10k. ✓
25. Enjoy being 25 :). ✓