Rock Climbing

My new adventure today was rock climbing!! Suddenly we were up on the wall and it was dizzying, fun, elegant, counter-intuitive. Sue and I had emailed about me ending my US days on a high note, and THIS is literally it!

I must say that halfway up that colourful indoor wall, all I wanted to do was stop. But I'd signed up cos I'm magnetized by new experiences and it was time to conquer my fear of heights. Plus my instructor was giving great pointers from below. Like most Americans, she has an exemplary can-do spirit. And Sandra, who instigated all this fun, was a superb natural even as a beginner.

I'm still dreaming of that artifice of a rock wall, and remembering all those free-spirited outdoorsy images of expert rock climbers in the remotest terrain. Rock climbing involves an awakening of many senses, new body movements in a different realm, easy camaraderie, some danger, travel, beauty, freedom -- reminds me of those scuba-diving days.

Amid the intensity of my relocation, it's perfect to be able to mix in a few hours of escape like today and mini-projects... still trying to grow Jack Pine bonsai that I'd have to leave behind.

Over-Partying God

My friend Gaby cut so many immense hydrangeas from her garden for me. I was telling her that hydrangeas suggest extravagant generosity -- like their grower Gaby!

She's also radiating one amazing aspect of God -- a Father who greatly rejoices over His children, presents us with a fuller than full life... and even over-parties!!

Really? Always original, PD recently described God as over-partying over lost sheep.

Luke 15: 3-6: Then Jesus told them a story. He said, "Suppose one of you has 100 sheep and loses one of them. Won't he leave the 99 in the open country? Won't he go and look for the one lost sheep until he finds it?When he finds it, he will joyfully put it on his shoulders and go home. Then he will call his friends and neighbors together. He will say, 'Be joyful with me. I have found my lost sheep.'

Now, doesn't that sound excessive, even a little embarassing? But it's true, all Heaven rejoices! Maybe our minds just haven't adjusted to a huge liberating truth like that.

Reminds me of what Joyce Meyer said. When we go to Heaven, we'll find piles and piles of beautiful unopened gifts. They were God's gifts to us on earth, she said, but we never even opened them!

Go! Spread! Fire!

We spent six perfect days reaching out to the community in fun ways. None of us wanted the week to end! Highlights of our weeklong Go! Spread! Fire!

1. Cold Water for Jesus
We gave away 1,200 bottles of cold water on sweltering days in Washington, Bethesda and Rockville. (At times, Patrick's van became an intense assembly-line for labelling and laminating the bottles between destinations!)

2. Rebuilding Ancient Ruins, Metaphorically
As a surprise, we cleaned the Bethesda church where we've started to rent a room for Sunday mornings. When we got there, we heard they'll have a new pastor soon, so here was an instant opportunity to beautify his yard! We bought garden tools to do the same thing in the Twinbrook church, new site of our evening service.
These two churches have gone through a lot, and the idea was to encourage them and possibly light a spark. (I'd never pulled weeds before... Made me think about the value of removing little-noticed weeds in our lives!)

3. Dollar Bills
We dropped and hid dollar bills wrapped around tracts in a mall. It was harder than we imagined to drop them covertly!

4. Free Fotos... Really!
That was the slogan on our tee-shirts. We walked around the greatly inspiring World War II Memorial with digital cameras and portable printers, offering to take and print pix on the spot for visitors. The pix are also on the deeperthandermis website for downloading. Along the way, we engaged in amazing conversations... We met a brother and sister in their twenties who live in different cities and found each other on MySpace!!

Similarly, we'd love to create bonds and bring smiles to Washington, our hometown, mission field and global hub.

I'll remember this as a week that mingled creativity with compassion. It was immense fun and so spontaneous, involving out-of-the-box thinking, prayer, hard work and, importantly, a willingness to speedily change plans as we listened to the Holy Spirit. Lots of planning + an undoing of plans when God revealed new paths. It's the way life should be, Su said.

We also wrote a tract that we printed, laminated and memorized. We were self-conscious when we role-played the evangelistic encounter with each other. Great practice. It's OK to be fools for Jesus. We'll either be fools now or later, PD said.

It's all about SOULS!

Also WONDERFUL was the 8 am devotions that we started the day with (to seek God's heart and the day's marching orders), and the evening revival meeting that we ended with (for refilling).

You can tell that I learned and experienced LOTS and LOTS! One other lesson is to persevere and laugh more. For example, our photo ministry (see above) started discouragingly some weeks back. But we refined our ideas, sourced printers at one-third the original price on overstock.com, and went out again. It worked!

Similarly, reaching out to Rockville was easier than Bethesda and Washington, cos we'd spent three years as a church in Rockville and prepared the ground. About two years ago, I'd also given away cold water with my former church in Bethesda, and the reception was a little chilly. But, I'm sure a few seeds were planted at that time. Indeed, last week, more people grabbed our water bottles in the same place in Bethesda, near the trail.

It's been a fuller than full week, and greatly transforming. Still bubbling over. It's exactly what Jesus said about giving us life to the full. What's a little surprising to me is that mostly we were five people in the team, and the planning and shopping for supplies was done mostly on the first day. We had two people who were computer whizzes who could design labels and tee-shirts and other stuff on the go. We were a mixed bunch of people, from a high-school kid to career women. We were all focused on outreach and souls and worshipping God.

This tells me that creative and powerful outreaches can be replicated in our communities by little teams, especially our generation of youths who have so much passion and are reform-minded.

I'd planned to join the team a couple of days, but was unstoppably hooked from Day One. My friend Sue would say I'm ending my Washington days on a high note and that's the way to go. I pray that this is transferable, whether in reality or in spirit.

Hey, Tyson, I thought of you, PS and your international group and the Seattle youths!! Have an adventurous summer!

Lebanese Baptism

My Lebanese colleague Nada asked me to be her godmother at her baptism! I'd prayed for her since we met in 2004 so it's such a joy to see bright-spirited Nada begin a divine journey... even if she doesn't fully realize it's a new road.

She was baptized today at the light-filled Our Lady of Lebanon Maronite Church in Washington. The baptismal bowl was egg-shaped and it was set in an "eggshell" baptistery -- symbols of new life.

The priest decided I couldn't be a godmother after all as I'm not Catholic, but I could be a witness along with Nada's fiance and a Sicilian friend (a doctor who helped tend to the pope when he was shot). The priest was kind and thoughtful in demystifying and personalizing some of the ancient rituals, which must be so different for Nada, who grew up as a Druze.

Washington is an international city. It's a big highlight of my life here to be friends with people from all nations, and sometimes to worship with them... Including many Chinese, Thais, Koreans, Japanese, Vietnamese and other Asians, Ghanans and other Africans, Latinos, Europeans especially from the former Eastern bloc, Americans...

It's a glimpse of what Heaven will be like. And certainly it's Heaven on earth just because eternity begins on this side!

Revelation 7:9: After this I looked and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb...

Strathmore: Eternal Summer

Strathmore...

Chanelle was an ideal companion for afternoon tea at the Strathmore Mansion today. She's a fellow book-lover and lingerer at art shows, and we took our time to admire creations like whimsical teapots. I was fascinated by "Winter Trees,'' a petite piece formed from glass and LED-illuminated.

The Strathmore is a gorgeous estate filled with majestic trees and memories, and it's easy to forget that it's tucked just behind hectic 355.

For me, Strathmore will always conjure up the sweetness and youth of midsummer. Last August, my Tapestry friends (and other Washingtonians who were unusually smiley and lulled by the summery family atmosphere) watched King Kong on a extra-wide outdoor screen, and we were all perfectly engulfed by the tenderness and tragedy of the story.

Midsummer...

I'll remember our spontaneously creative Jessy creating little face-paintings on us, practicing ahead of our Go! Spread! Fire! outreach with inner-city kids. (The faces of the children... along with our non-artistic face or hand paintings of butterflies and rocks... would often rise in our mind's eye later.)

When it got chilly, Yong, always compassionate besides being always funny, let me have his jacket. Later, Lori, always active, drove home to get lots of blankets.

Create Memories...

At the end of summer, PD asked us about our summer memories. We remembered the outdoor movies, the balloon launch to celebrate our anniversary, the outreach, and other special moments. He's asking us to create memories. I think that's an intrinsically valuable part of connecting people to each other, and weaving a richer tapestry of many stories.

For me, memories are one source of creativity. In school, I wrote a poem titled Old Photos, which sprang from a nostalgic hour spent looking at pictures of my parents when they were so young.

Wish I'd brought my sister Ping to the Strathmore last summer!

Peonies

Now that it's early summer, I look out for peonies. These lush and extravagant blooms first entranced me when I saw them at the home of a Japanese journalist in Washington.

Peonies are a symbol of China. I imagine that they're popular in Japan too. In the United States, the Cricket Hill Garden in Connecticut is "madly devoted" to peonies. I like their peony picture collection, where I viewed an "Ancient Pink" peony (above).

And the name Ancient Pink suggests one more reason why I love peonies: They evoke the ancient, and most of us have a sense or a nostalgia for the ancient -- the virtuous side of it anyway.

My pastor has talked about Robert Webber's ancient-future faith which values a deeper kinship with the early church. Recently he also highlighted Isaiah 61:4 and its idea of rebuilding ancient ruins -- which is one reason why our morning service rents a room in a lovely old Bethesda church, whose tiny congregation has a desire to grow vibrantly.

Fathers

I met Trangdai Tranguyen once. All serenity and friendliness, she was stirring a pot of perfectly clear and flavour-rich chicken broth she'd prepared for pho at Sandra's place.

Soon after, I was entranced as I read three slim volumes of her poetry in mostly one night.

This is an excerpt from Daddy's Weekend, a poem in Songs For A Boat Father:

sunup
weekend
you're keyed up running to each room
asking, inviting,
- Get up! Let's go have breakfast!
the five children turn over
all five

The father is also pictured toiling over dinner, pulling a movie from his archive for his children, constantly on the go during the weekend -- highly enthused, sacrificial, pouring love into the lives of his children whom he'd missed for years when he migrated alone from Vietnam to the US.

Such poems that so tenderly portray the translocation trials of refugee families are transformed into the universal with Trangdai's skilled pen.

Certainly it reminds me of my own sacrificial Dad. The way he enrolled us in the best schools where he had to make patient, persistent connections. The opportunities he gave us out of his limited resources, and the times he played with us. He brought me to the library when I was six and I began my lifelong love for books. I think he was the only person who tried to imagine the extraordinarily intense first days of my life in the US, and that humbles and amazes me much.

Our fathers are wonderful and flawed. They are an imperfect but still-shining glimpse of the Father's heart and the God-designed love He placed in the hearts of men for their children.

Sushi on Sunday

In Japanese, Hinata has a lovely meaning: sunny place.

That's the name of a Bethesda mom-and-pop sushi restaurant and mini-grocery. I like to share this bright space with friends but most of my lunches here are solitary, and very late.

The sushi is beautifully formed, good and inexpensive. I often ask the proprietor's friendly wife about new items I discover on the shelves, and she's supplied enticing tips on the spicy cod roe, exotic snacks and all.

It was such contentment and enjoyment today to relish sushi on the summery eve of Memorial Day while reflecting on PD's increasingly anointed sermons. That's double sustenance -- sushi and the word of God!

Our perspective changes the more we draw close to the Creator, he said. The bills don't matter as much anymore when our focus turns to Kingdom needs. Our job is to be faithful, and God's role is to take care of the rest. Often we want to do or think more to change our circumstances, but there's no true help or self-help apart from Jesus.

Such truths from God are greatly sustaining and liberating. Uncertainties begin to look like adventures instead. Tough days become doors for grace and revelation. Our shallowness is replaced by growth, intimacy, integrity, character -- an excellent journey.

Gatsby in Maryland

F. Scott Fitzgerald, author of The Great Gatsby and vivid chronicler of the Jazz Age, is buried in lil unassuming Rockville, a little down the road from where I live.

Not too long ago, friends told me that the novelist who portrayed America's shining possibilities (and also the darker reverse side of the American Dream) had links to historic Rockville.

The optimist in me loves the line about Gatsby having "some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life."

I guess I'm talking about Gatsby now because I'm hurriedly blogging the many byways of my personal journey in America as my departure looms.

Also, I'm now reading the memoir "Reading Lolita in Tehran" which has startling passages about the time when author and professor Azar Nafisi ingeniously put The Great Gatsby and his dream on trial in her University of Tehran class. It forced her students to take sides, in the days when Ayatollah Khomeini's revolution began closing down the country.

Snapshots

What's an image of Lubriderm moisturizer doing here?

Really soothing in winter, Lubriderm was an early discovery for me when I first lived in the US. Auntie Minar introduced it in a motherly gesture. But my Indonesian librarian friend is more than sweetness and light. On pure logic alone, she once out-maneuvered a team of car salesmen to sell me a Toyota Camry (another early purchase) at a great price.

I've been taking snapshots these days, hoping to catch fleeting butterfly memories of life in America before I head home.

This afternoon, I bought Whole Food cranberry-orange scones and took a picture. A little silly. I used to love these scones a decade ago, before I scrutinized nutrition labels. Each scone weighs in at 270 calories!

Other Pictures: The house-shaped box of crayons that occupied Julie, Megan and other little visitors. Can't ship it back. The Ikea crockery that my parents packed in their luggage for me. The cherry dining table, which still conjures up guests and good times over the years.

I'm so grateful for these amazing years in the US. As Ephesians 3:20 indicates, God has been doing in my life "exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think." What's next? My good friend TS, at a really sad moment when he and his family left for Seattle, said it best: "Look ahead."

No More Worlds To Conquer

I read this mini-profile of Payton Jordan at the San Francisco Airport, en route from Singapore to Washington, DC. His story stirred me from my sleep-deprived state, and his life is one window into:

• America's competitive spirit — a national strength
• The incomparable sense of possibilities — one compelling reason why I admire my host-country of 10-plus years

Payton Jordan

He coached track and field at Stanford from 1957 through 1979, his athletes winning six individual NCAA titles and setting five world records. He was the head coach of the 1968 U.S. Olympic team that won a record 24 medals, including 12 Golds, and established six world records. He was also the director of the historic U.S. vs. U.S.S.R. meet at Stanford Stadium in 1962.

Then, when well past 50, he resurrected his own career as a champion sprinter, setting "Masters" world records in the 100 meters for every age group from 55 through 80. He finally retired at age 81 with no more worlds to conquer.

Inducted into the Bay Area Sports Hall of Fame in 2006.

April 19 Update:
Important to remember the best of America and men like Payton Jordan, amid the carnage, grief and questions surrounding Virginia Tech. The students rallied together overnight and showed amazing spirit.

Cherry Blossoms in Washington

I missed Washington's cherry blossoms for the first time! Today, after returning from Singapore, I did spy several cherry trees near my house. But they were in the awkward flower-and-leaf stage and totally past their wondrous early-spring peak.

Life-transitions are like that: unbeautiful, but hiding a new day. Hopefully, our transitions are as ephemeral as those pink and white blossoms too!

During my first spring here in 1997, I wasn't going to view the blossoms. Too sweet, I imagined. Until I spent a gorgeous mid-afternoon strolling through Bethesda's affluent Kenwood neighbourhood where 1,200 Yoshino trees were in full bloom.

I joined the invasion of gawkers on the pretty streets, all of us floating slowly, it seemed, under the millions of dreamy petals held aloft on old, dark, gnarled branches.

This was where American suburbia encountered Japan too. American children set up stalls to sell home-made brownies and icy drinks.

I remember buying lemonade from a little boy whose house was far from the hubbub. His hopeful eyes had followed me as I walked up the road; that was how I made my modest 25-cent contribution to a future entrepreneur, one of America's best products.

I love the story of how in 1912, Tokyo presented Washington with 3,700 cherry trees that soon encircled the star-shaped Tidal Basin, signifying friendship.

Once, a Japanese journalist told me he much preferred Washington's sakura season. In Japan, there were karaoke and drinking contests under the trees and it gets crazier every year, he lamented.

That afternoon in Kenwood has stayed with me - the tender colours, the spark and energy of early springtime, and another Asian echo in America.

Snow!

Delicacy, purity.
Praying, remembering.
Wondrous to walk in falling snow.

Today, I walked for 1.5 hours in the snow. Someone commented that the pearly-gray sky added to the feeling of weightlessness. I stopped often. Taking pictures. Journal-ing in my mind and on an increasingly damp scrap of paper. Looking at 13 puffy-headed birds with pale yellow chests, resting on the upper twigs of a tree. Staring discreetly as an indulgent Dad took his three little colorfully wrapped children out to skitter down a baby slope on tiny snow-saucers. Kind of like the days when my own Dad, hour after hour in Singapore's burning equatorial sun, pushed the swings with me and my sisters on them. I don't think he's seen snow, much as he loves traveling to new places.

I remember another Sunday, in 2003, when a snow-storm caused our little church to worship at a home. Later we walked down the empty street, so transformed, all white beauty and exceptional hush. Our friend Peter walked ahead with exuberant little Michael on his shoulders. Two other wonderful friends later gave the middle name Snow to their lil daughter, who just turned two. How beautiful that those days of church-planting and God's favor are so embedded in my heart that the snow today easily stirs memories of my friends, now a scattered family.

Today, it was mostly the glorious solitude that made it natural to be abandoned to Jesus -- and to know it's possible and desirable to be faithful whether I'm here or there. These couple of years, I've had to embrace the transition and the absence of certainty. It's been a time of growing while waiting. Of making the utmost of my days in the US and discovering so many gems, like the dreamy Berkshires, all nations in my workplace, new creativity, an irrepressible little church, the dazzling edges of revival.

God remembers His promise to me, Jeanne said during our intercessory circle. And He makes all things new, according to Revelation 21:5. That's a verse I always quote and pray! How perfect is that?

Thanksgiving 2005

Fallen leaves swirling skyward,

A wild dance, mimicking life.

Light draining, early and indifferent,

From this city I never embraced.

The absence of all of you,

Trails --

A pearly vapour

Suffusing Thanksgiving.

Our stories disconnect,

Yet persist, suggest

Marvellous light,

Not our own, divine.

I decided to spend Thanksgiving Day in solitude and prayer, away from the celebratory hubbub that always delighted me. I longed to step into a new season of walking in God's marvellous light, and glimpse (or see with eyes of faith) the outlines of a path out from my long transition. I missed my absent best friends with whom I'd celebrated Thanksgiving and served God in our church-plant these amazing years till last December.

I believe my prayer is being answered in the heavenlies. Meanwhile, one overnight fruit (yes, 24 hrs!) of my quiet day was this poem. I'd not written for such a long time, and I thank Jinsook who sweetly, insistently, unabashedly reminded me to write, week after week. She must be one of those people who know how to knock on Heaven's door. : )

I really want to write again. Not indulgently like in my college years, but maybe to flip open a few more windows in this vast online space to God's glory.