i'm sitting on a couch in a cafe

and i am reading the international news.

Many of the headlines (too many) start with "so and so killed by such and such;" a plane crash in Thailand, a bomb in Algeria, a bus crash in Mexico, a hurricane in Nicaragua, the continuing struggle in Darfur, the war in Iraq... Death is everywhere, and I sit comfortably on a couch at a cafe, sipping a caramel latte.

Do you think our lives would be different if the tragedies in this world were closer to home? Do you think we would live differently if we had friends that lived in Sudan? What would we do if we had a friend who was dying of a curable disease? What would our lives be like if our family was sick because of the dirty water?

I think our priorities would change. I think we would forget about trying to catch our favorite tv show, trying to keep up with fashion, trying to get all of our errands done and find some time to rest. I think we wouldn't be worried about anything except helping our friend.

A year ago I stayed in Balic Balic, Manilla, in the Philippines. I lived next to a slum by the railroad tracks. I spent time with the men and women that lived there. I ate with them, I went grocery shopping with them, I worshipped God with them. I experienced a typhoon with them, as we saw their tin roofs blow away. They let me come into their world for 3 weeks. They welcomed me in as a friend and as a member of their family. I called my host "Nanay,"
which is Tagalog for mother.

And now their world is being demolished. The railroad company is expanding and renovating, so the slum, the informal housing, the homes that are only feet away from the tracks, have to be demolished. Most of these people have no where to go. The government is offering housing, but it is away from the city and away from the jobs.

This is my family. I don't know them well, and we don't have the same blood, but that doesn't really matter. I was welcomed into their world. My heart fell in love with them. And now as I sit on a couch in a cafe, my family is wondering when they will wake up to someone telling them that they have to leave, telling them that their home will be demolished that very day.

If our neighborhood was scheduled to be demolished, would we live our lives differently? If our family was losing their home, would our priorities be different?

Please join me in praying for those who are losing their homes, for those who are losing family members, and for those who are directly affected by the headlines we read in the news.

Please join me in reconsidering our day to day priorities. Who are our friends? Who is part of our family? Do we have to be related to them? Do we have to have a conversation with them? Do we have to know them before we can be moved to help them? I don't think so.

Happy Mother's Day

Dear Mom,

I admire you, I love you, and I am proud to be your daughter.

I am a little hesitant to write you this letter because I'm afraid I won't be able to adequately express how much I love you and how amazing you are, but I'm going to give it a shot.

I admire you. You have had an extremely hard life. You have endured experiences that I hope to never encounter. I think about the parts of your life that you have allowed me to see and hear, and then I look at you with amazement. You have weathered the storm well, coming through it not beaten and weak, but strong and beautiful. You continue to live with a joy that is child-like, like a child who has not felt the pain of loss, dissapointment, and suffering, and who lives with a pure hope and excitement for the future.

I love you. The older I get, the more I see you in me, and the more I understand you. The more I understand you, the more I love you. I love your smile, I love that you love to talk about absolutely everything, I love it when you get excited about the little things, I love how you are easily moved by the pain and joy of others. I love that you are goofy. I love your stubborness and that your own stubborness pushes you to be willing and flexible. It pushes you to do things like move to a state where nothing is familiar because you are determined to love your husband well. I love your love for life, for others, and for Jesus.

I am happy and proud to be your daughter. You have taught me how to be teachable. I don't even know if you see it, but even while you are extremely stubborn, you are extremely teachable. Maybe its because you are determined to grow. I have seen you learn and grow incredibly in the last 10 years, and your growth has been a great example for me.

You have taught me how to smile. I remember when I was a kid, I would hear people talk about you and your beautiful smile. And now whenever someone comments on my frequent smile, I think of you and I smile some more.

You have taught me how to be transparent. You wear your heart on your sleeve, and allow people into the depths of your world. You invite them in and you ask them to stay around for a while. That is an amazing gift. I am so happy to be a part of your world, and I hope to be as transparent as you and to welcome people into my world as you have welcomed me into yours.

Gee, a tear just ran down my cheek.

Like I said before, the older I get the more of you I see in me. And I am happy for it. Don't worry, I'm not ignorant... I'm all grown up and I know you have flaws. I see your flaws in me too. But if inheriting your flaws means that I get to inherit your beauty, your gifts, and your blessings, then I am glad to have the whole package. I am glad to be a part of your life, and I feel blessed to be like you.

Thanks for being amazing. I love you mom.

Happy Mother's Day :)

Hi Mom!

I cut my hair 5 months ago, and my mom has been bugging me about sending her a picture. I finally have a couple and I figured I'd post them. Now you all know what I look like.

This is me and my fantabulous housemates.

We are on our way to a birthday party and salsa dancing. :)

Left to right: Erin, Preethi, me.

And this picture is for my mom.

Hi mom! This is my new (5 month old) hair cut!

Sorry it took me so long to post it!

Gotta love it

Hey friends,

I was just reflecting on some random stuff that I have recently come to love, and I thought I would share. (this is not a comprehensive list, and it is in no particular order)

1) Yoga. Thanks to my wonderful friend and housemate, Erin, I have discovered the wonderfulness of yoga. After my manic mondays at work, I go to my yoga class and find myself in some awkward, but somehow amazing position. As I am trying to balance on one foot, or going a little closer to doing the splits, I totally forget about the busyness of life, I think about how funny the room of 30 or 40 of us must look, and I simply relax, meditate, and sometimes pray. Its amazing. Not only is it relaxing, but I'm more flexible and I have less back problems. Haha. That sounds like an advertisemnt. Oh well. What can I say? I like yoga.

2) Salsa dancing. Thanks to my wonderful friend Jen and her 23rd birthday, I got to go salsa dancing this weekend. AMAZING. First of all, I love dancing. Secondly, salsa has a beautiful rhythym that is easy to pick up and move to. Thirdly, I love dancing.

3) Fundraising for Water for People. It is currently my favorite part of my job, but it isn't even a part of my job. I am helping make t-shirts, plan a happy hour, do a bake sale, and I get to learn more about Water for People and meet a lot of interesting people in the process. (check out their link on the right). Going to be in Pasadena in May? You should come to the happy hour. I'll let you know when and where in a couple weeks.

4) Talking to the security guy in my office building. His name is Fred, and he is cool.

5) Playing my guitar. I don't know that many songs, but that's OK, I gotta start somewhere. Whenever I need to talk to God or vent or relax, but I don't know what to say or do, I just pull out the guitar and sing. Its wonderful. (I'm not sure my housemates think that, but they at least tolerate it. :))

6) Jesus. I guess I haven't just recently come to love Jesus. I've loved him for a long time. But my current love for him feels fresh, new, deeper, stronger, and closer to complete.

7) Driving with the window down and the music up. Again, I've loved these things for a long time, but I appreciate it more than ever now that I spend 40 hours every week in a quiet cubicle with no window. Thank God for windows and music.

8) Spending time with the neighborhood kids. They bring me back to reality. Even when they are fighting, not sharing, demanding attention, not eating all their food, asking for more candy, crying, etc., they help me remember what is important in life.

9) My beater 2-door, 1990 Honda Accord.

-Dents: 2.
-Stains: countless.
-Oil spilled in the trunk? Check.
-Almost broken lock on the driver-side door? Check.
-Problems getting my key out of the ignition because of the broken Parking indicator? Very much Check.
-Can fit more people than there are seatbelts? Check.
-Missing transmission fluid dip stick? Fortunately, that is no longer a Check.
-My friends and often times carpool buddies, Erin and Preethi, have likened the process of getting out of the back of my car to emerging from the womb. Haha.
-Priceless memories? Check.

10) Reading the countless comments on my blog, which help me to know what people are thinking, what they disagree with, what they relate to, what else I should write about, how to improve my posts, and... oh wait. that doesn't happen. hmm... anyone out there? (hint hint, wink wink).

the real 10) Taking my grandpa on dates.


So great. so great. :)

My Grandma...

...is getting neck surgery tomorrow, Thursday the 5th, at noon.

After the surgery, she will have two screws in her neck, one screw in her skull, a neck brace, and a bald spot.

To top it off, she is planning on going on a motor-home rally a week later.

I love that about my grandma. I don't think it's a good idea to go on a trip after having screws drilled into her neck and head, but I have to admire her drive.

Did I tell you she went to Disneyland when she had a broken neck? Yeah, that's drive. ...or red-headed stubbornness.

Anyway, if you are into praying, or even if you aren't, please pray for my grandma. Please pray that the surgery will go smoothly and that she will heal quickly. Not only is she having surgery, but she is in the hospital through Easter and into Monday. My grandma doesn't like laying around and feeling stuck. She doesn't like people taking care of her. She wants to take care of other people. Please pray for patience. Please pray for my grandpa. He doesn't like cooking. He might starve while she is gone. haha. just kidding. But he could probably use some peace and patience himself.

Thanks for the help.

I love you, Nana. And I am praying for you.

Homeless

"Home" is a concept that I have a hard time understanding.

My parents and I moved every two or three years when I was growing up, and I LOVED it. We never moved far - always an hour drive this way or that way, but I was excited every time to have a new place to call "home." "Homesick" is another term I don't understand.

When I left on summer trips, when I went to college, when I studied in Australia for a semester, when I traveled this summer, I didn't get "homesick." Ask my parents. They never knew if I was alive or dead because I never called them and I never even thought about home.

I always thought that my love to move and my ability to not miss home showed that I adapt well to new places and situations. I thought it meant that I was flexible and comfortable in a variety of environments...

But then I went to Central City Community Church of the Nazarene. The service was incredible. It was one of the best services I have been to in a long time. "A piece of heaven," said my housemate Erin. Why was it so good? I have to give the pastor props, because his sermon was off-the-charts amazing. But I have heard some #1 hits before and they didn't always leave me feeling like I just walked through heaven's doors.

As I sat among the church congregation, I tried to figure out what made these people and this place so wonderful.

Then it hit me. The majority of the people that attend this church are homeless. The strangest realization for me was that I felt like I was one of them, struggling and hoping for the same things as them. At first I was almost angry with myself. My life is so easy compared to theirs. How could I be so ignorant to flippantly feel like I related with their struggles? How could I say that I felt like these men and women who have no place of their own were my family? I couldn't tell them that I understood what they were going through. I hated telling them I lived in Pasadena when they asked where I stayed. If one of them asked me for money on a street corner, I might not even give it to them. So how could I, albeit slightly ironically, feel like this place was "home-sweet-home" and these people were my family?Then it hit me again.

Praising God with this congregation was sweet to my soul because we all understood something crucial:

This life is not "home."

We agreed together that we know what "home" is supposed to be like, and this life was not it. We were longing together for something better, something perfect. We wanted not only the best for ourselves, but the best for each other. And we all knew where to look for it. We knew we could find a home in God, and that is where we put our hearts, capturing the idea that "home is where the heart is."

As I sat with the my brothers and sisters in Christ, praying for peace, asking for justice, hoping for breakthrough, committing to persevere through pain and temptation, I realized that this is what I had been looking for every time I moved when I was little. Being with a community that understood where "home" is is what I had been longing for. I was never homesick because there was no home to miss - I hadn't found it yet.

So I guess I can officially say that I am homesick. I desire a home the way a home should be. I am sick for a place where no one is in need, no one is in pain, and no one is left behind. I want to live in shalom, a place of peace. Who doesn't?

And as I write this, I realize that I am homesick for Africa (Ghana in particular) because of the community I found there. I found men and women greatly affected by and unsettled with the circumstances of an unjust world. They strive for something better, and live with the hope, faith, and understanding that the best home of all is discovered within a life that is committed to following Jesus.

For my friends in Ghana and the Central City church, the pain of every-day life in a broken world is sometimes too hard to bear, but they continue on with smiles on their faces because they know exactly where home is and what home is not. Life is hard, and they don't always smile, but they know where to find joy, where to find satisfaction, and where to find the comfort of a true home.

May God bless them and give them relief as they endure suffering that I will never fully understand and as we long and pray together for the home of peace and joy that God has promised us.

My grandma fell down the stairs

and broke her neck.

She broke it in the best place possible - at the very top where it is most difficult to damage the spinal chord. She has a HUGE brace, she is in quite a bit of pain and very uncomfortable, and she is home with nothing to do but be uncomfortable.

My shower is annoying. The hot water connection is aweful. To have a warm shower in the morning you have to turn the hot water all the way on - which comes to a full blown drizzle :/ . If you want any sort of water pressure, you have to turn on the cold water and settle for an almost-warm shower.

My 13-year-old neighbor's dad died about 2 weeks ago.

My ignition is broken. Ever day when I go to work I fight with my car for 2 minutes, begging it to let go of my key.

I feel like an idiot at work. I have no clue what I am doing.

In the last week or so I have developed a really annoying problem. I'm suddenly lactose intolerant. yep.

So..... Why do I say all this? Don't worry, I'm not complaining.



My work is too lazy to give me a parking permit for the month of November because I started in the middle of the month. Since I have no permit I have to stop at the security window every day to get my parking stub. I see the same, kind, old man every morning and every morning our greetings to each other become more and more familiar. I am always in a hurry when I rush into the parking lot, but then I remember that I get to see the awesome parking dude with the parking stub and the warm greeting.

This morning he looked at me through the window and said with his beautiful accent:
"If I don't see you later, you have a BEAUTIFUL, WONderful Thanksgiving."
I have never heard a stronger wish for a happy Thanksgiving. He pulled out the most elaborate words he could think of with his second-language English, and each word was supported by his whole-hearted sincerity.


This man - who is barely more than a stranger - reminded me how really thankful I am.


I am thankful that I don't yet have a parking permit. I would be missing out if I didn't get to know the parking dude.

My grandma is 77. She could have been paralyzed, bed-ridden, or killed falling down those stairs. She is home with her husband who is taking really good care of her. She is alive and physically capable of healing. She also has this really cool-looking bump on her head. In fact, this is the second time this year she has escaped death (the first time being when she and my grandpa had carbon monoxide poisoning). God isn't done with her yet.

All summer long I had to deal with really crappy showers. I had 7 weeks of cold-water bucket baths, which really weren't that bad, but nice, hot, long showers are definitely my favorite. I shared a bathroom with up to 7 people, where taking longer than 5 minutes wasn't an option, and in Ghana and Manila, the feeling of being clean lasted for about 15 seconds because of the thick humidity... It is really nice to have a shower with running water, two bathrooms to share with my two housemates, and good old, dry, California weather.

I get to see my 13-year-old neighbor often. I hate what he is going through, but I am glad I am here. I am so grateful to be able to be in his life - and hopefully to help positively influence it. I have already been blessed by the short amount of time I have spent with his family, praying with them and listening to his mother when she needed to talk and cry.

My car is now almost 17 years old and it gets about 24 miles to the gallon on the street and 30+ miles to the gallon on the freeway. This car has treated me well and taken me thousands of miles. I am so thankful that I have such a reliable car and can afford the gas.

I LOVE my job. I work for the woman who's job I want as soon as I know what I'm doing (which will maybe be in 10 years or so). It took me over a month to find this job, and it was well worth the wait. I am never bored - being challenged with every project. My supervisor hands me work and then tells me that I probably won't know what I am doing. When I show her what I did and tell her I didn't know what to do with the rest, she thanks me for the work and then patiently explains everything. I have no clue what I am doing, but I am learning more than I thought I ever could.

Praise Jesus for soymilk.

there is SOOO MUCH to be thankful for.

so much.

My grandparents, neighbors, parking dude, home, car and coworkers have been huge blessings in my life - not to mention my parents, the rest of my family, my housemates, my friends, my mentors, etc.

What are you thankful for?

By the time most of you read this, I'm guessing it won't be Thanksgiving anymore, but thats okay.

I hope that it was BEAUTIFUL and WONderful.