Compared to What?

One of the personal benefits of keeping a journal like this (blog) is that I (we, meaning Victoria and I, together with our children) can go back and re-read what I was experiencing in days gone by and reconsider how God was moving upon my heart when I might feel like I did when writing those things down. In that vein, I recently caught myself comparing who I am against the wrong standard, yet again, and remembered that I had written this article (below) for our church newsletter that steered me back to a "magnetic north" on my internal compass. This I post for our family's consideration and contemplation, with the hope that God might help us all slough off the unhealthy comparisons in exchange for a view through a lens of the One who loves with perfection, purity and into perpetuity.

I, probably much like most of us, have pretty much lived my

whole life comparing myself to others. I’ve often wondered what

life would be like “If only I…” or “Sure wish I…”. Compared to

others, I have asked myself, “Why don’t I have that personality, the

one over there that’s always so effervescent and fun to be around?”

Or I’ve said to myself, “Sure wish I had their ability to orate and

write so fluently, weaving just the right amount of humor in here

and there, thinking so quickly on their feet.” Or, “Gee whiz, if only

I had their brains, then I’d probably have a different vocation that

would free me up with a lot more margin and a lot more disposable

income.” Perhaps, if you’re like me, you have similar questions

or say comparable things to yourself about yourself against a

self. “If only I _______…”, “Sure wish I _______…”, “Why don’t

I ______..?”, you fill in the blank(s). So what’s wrong with this

kind of thinking, if anything? And if it’s wrong, then why do

I, why do we do it? And if we knew why, what would we, what

could we do differently and then how should we be thinking?

First, let’s differentiate between healthy and unhealthy

comparisons of one another. Jesus said to His disciples after

washing their feet, “I gave you an example that you should also

do as I did to you.” (John 13:15) How could they (we) do as

He did, if they did not compare what they were doing (or not

doing for that matter) against what Jesus was doing? They

saw, He instructed and then said, “… do as I did to you”. We

look at Jesus and those emulating Jesus, we take account and

compare ourselves and then, by the grace of God compelled by

love, do as He and those like Jesus are doing. That’s healthy!

That’s transformative! That’s the Gospel! And when it comes

to salvation, we would hope, like Paul did with King Agrippa

that all would see, hear, compare, desire and become “as I am”

(except for those chains). (Acts 26:29)

But, when we match ourselves up to another at the expense

of our God-created nature, that splendid design that makes

you and me uniquely different from me and you, respectively,

then that’s unhealthy. Why actually it’s sinful (many unhealthy

things are sinful, and all sinful things are unhealthy). When

Paul said that, “… He (God) gave some as apostles, and some

as prophets, and some as evangelists, and some as pastors and

teachers…” (Ephesians 4:11, with emphasis added), he didn’t say

God gave all such capacities. And when Paul also said that, “…

God… appointed… gifts of healings, helps, administrations…”

(I Corinthians 12:28), and then asked, “All do not have gifts of

healings, do they?” (I Corinthians 12:30), he was making the

point (among many) that I/we cannot possess it all, because

God did not appoint it all for me/us. In fact, forget the “all”!

We cannot possess most of it (you define what the “it” is)

because He did not appoint most of “it” unto us, nor that part

we wish we had but do not. Therefore, to want it all or any

portion thereof that wasn’t allotted for you and for me is to

question God’s artistry. And it’s then in our questioning we hear

God question us, just as Job did, “Where were you when I laid

the foundation of the earth?” (Job 38:4) That’s not a query I want

to hear the Lord challenge me with, and I’m sure it wasn’t too

fun for Job to hear either. But that’s precisely what He’s saying

to us when we say or ask, “If only I…”, “Sure wish I…”, or “Why

don’t I…?” Can you hear Him? It’s deafening for me.

Now when these unhealthy, sinful musings swirl through

our heads, they’re usually symptoms of something much

deeper, generated from the heart. And the Christian heart,

that regenerated heart which pushes the lifeblood of our

being throughout our souls, it has an irregular beat when we

detrimentally question and compare ourselves against others.

That heart is now resonating with the cadence of a sinner,

because sinners are wired to compare, compare, compare.

We frequently stack ourselves up against others, wondering,

wishing, desiring that constitution, that giftedness, or that

make-up that was just never intended for you. And for us to

despise what we think God forgot to fashion in us is to fall

back into the same ole patterns that brought us to the cross in

the first place…, putting ourselves on the throne of authority

rather than The Authority on the throne of authority. And

this, yes this is what the Gospel came to liberate us from and to

defibrillate our hearts into a regular beat that resonates with the

cadence of holiness.

So here’s the blow away. Are you ready? “I am (You are)

fearfully and wonderfully made.” (Psalm 139:14b) That’s what

GOD says, and He says it about you. I know you’ve heard

and read that before, just like me a thousand times, but quote

Scripture about yourself and say it out loud and slowly, right

now, “I-am-fearfully-and-wonderfully-made.” What part? Every

part! Yes, every molecule and atom in every sinew of your being

is miraculously woven and held together by the Master Designer

and we, even the unregenerate, marvel at that. But what about

the part you feel is missing? You know, the blanks you filled

in above. That soft spoken temperament you wish were more

animated, or that behind-the-scenes and completely unnoticed-

by-anyone gift that seems so insignificant by comparison, or

that disposition that’s perfectly suited for your vocation but

doesn’t seem to have any everlasting “spiritual” or ministerial

effect, or that constitution that’s always on-the-go but never

seems to find respite like other more calming people. These

are the things that make image-bearers of the Most High God

complete, not in the one but in the whole. And the beauty and

the wonder of God are visualized in the tapestry of community

when we see what’s lacking in us lived out in another, just as

community always was from before the foundation of the earth

between God the Son, God the Spirit, and God the Father.

Now I can hear those haunting questions and comments about

and to myself shifting my paradigm, because someone much

greater than me or that person I’m comparing myself against

has thoughts about me that are precious. And not only are they

precious, they’re innumerably precious. (cf. Psalm 139:17)

So now when I find myself ruminating on what’s absent in

me by way of comparative blueprint, I can rather ruminate on

what’s complete in me by way of divine construct. And not only

me, but you, for you make me complete, and I’m confident

I make you complete, and together we make Jesus’ church

complete.

Putting unhealthy (sinful) comparisons aside as one fearfully

and wonderfully made,

Donuts with Dad

At the beginning of the new year, Victoria told me that I needed to mark a very special day on my calendar in the month of March. She said, "Whatever you do, you do not want to miss this important date." "What's that?", I asked. She said, "It's Donuts with Dad's Day at Poppy's kindergarten class." That day came with great anticipation and fanfare yesterday, March 26th.

The build-up was quite phenomenal, I must say. The nearer the date approached, the more times per day that Poppy would remind me that our special time was coming closer. And each night during this last week I would whisper in Poppy's ears as she went down for bed, "Just (___) more days until Donuts with Dads." She'd look at me with a big grin on her face and sort of giggle while saying out of the same breath, "Daaaaaddd."

When I came to the school yesterday afternoon (I left work early and made sure I gave myself enough cushion just in case), I could see all of the dad's mingling around the front door of the classroom. Some seemed to know one another - I sort of sat on a bench by myself and enjoyed the warmth of the clear Spring day shining on my face. In fact, I caught a few zzzzzz while laying on that bench waiting for my sweet little Pop-Tart to pop out of the room. About five or ten minutes went by, and then I could hear the pitter-patter of feet approaching me. As I looked up, there was Poppy with the biggest smile on her face, running full speed ahead with pigtails bobbing, straight for the bench I was sitting on. It was so cute to see all those children scurrying so busily and proudly toward their daddy's, each one wanting to make a quick connection, almost to signal that their dad was there in full few for all to see.

She gave me a big bear hug, grabbed my hand, walked me into the classroom, sat me down in my special chair, and then proceeded to the front with all of the other children. They then sang several songs, showed a slide show that would rip just about any dad's heart out of their chest, and then each walked up to a microphone and said why they thought their dad was special to them. Poppy said I was special because I let her go outside and play (seemed rather random, but I loved it nonetheless - didn't really matter what she said). We then sat down at another table together, and she asked me what kind of donut I wanted. After telling her, she brought two back, one for her and one for me. She drank some milk and I drank some orange juice. I looked around the room while Poppy wasn't noticing and couldn't help but be in awe of every dad and child in connection with one another that afternoon. It was a sight to behold, and it was then that I fully grasped why I simply could not let this date slip through my calendar. Dad's are special. Every child needs one, and for those who don't have one for whatever reason, it's a sorrow of unconscionable magnitude. For many it cannot be helped, but for those fortunate enough to have one, and one that loves even remotely like designed (meaning like our Father God Himself), then they've just caught a slight glimpse of a love that cannot be substituted by anything else. I pondered during those moments where Poppy might have been had God not so graciously and divinely appointed that the two of us be father and daughter for the rest of our lives. No doubt she has another father out there on the other side of the world who she has no conscious memory of. All she now knows as a father is me. And I can tell she's secure in me, feels loved by me, is safe with me, and is cared for through me. These things I give to her freely and with such great happiness. And when I see and feel her respond to me like she does, not because she thinks she's going to get something from me, but just because, then I want all the more to give her everything I have. She has no ulterior motives in those moments; she's just down right proud and down right in love.

My children set me right with God. They put me in a place where I stop working so hard, and I just relax knowing that I need do nothing but rest my head on His chest, wrap my arms around Him, look out and think to myself, "Everyone should have a Father like this." Unlike Poppy, I cannot be that all-perfect father for all of the other children in the classroom, and I can't even be that one for her. They all think they've already got there's, but there's One even better, and He can indeed be the perfect Father to all, to all who call upon Him.

Time to have a donut with our Dad. That's right, a donut. And He'll even serve you the one you want, and you can drink orange juice, listen to Him gloat over you, and tell all of the other children around you, "Come, and let me be your Dad too, and I'll make you as happy as this little boy is right here."

Dunkin' a Donut,

Annie-Girl

Our sweet Annie-Girl is home for the week on Spring Break. She just finished her fifth quarter of college studies (Graphic Design) at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo. She reminded us just two days ago that she only has four quarters left. We're all so proud of her. Victoria and I feel like Marilla Cuthbert from Anne of Green Gables when she once said about her older-adopted Anne (Ann, spelled with an "e"), "You're all grown up - so tall and stylish." (Or something like that.) Our Ann-with-an-"e" certainly is too. This was all too evident this weekend when she served as the Maid of Honor for a very good friend of hers that she grew up with here in the Bay Area. Seeing her stand on that platform with the other bridesmaids in her beautifully tailored dress, off-white pumps and styled hair gave cause for flashbacks to days gone by. Most parents would, and do, feel that way when they see their kids all grown up in settings like that. Even younger brother Barret said he got choked up watching Annie walk down the aisle. He said he couldn't explain why, and even said that he's not the emotional type, but seeing her sister like that stirred up something in his heart that was inexplicable.

In a growing family where adoptive children seem to take the spotlight (not that any of us deserve a spotlight, or even want a spotlight for that matter), our "biological" children (sounds so impersonally scientific - YUCK!) may appear to fade into the background. That's what spotlights obviously do - they focus your attention on the thing being brightly illuminated. And while on a practical level that might be the case because the younger ones demand so much more day-to-day, hour-to-hour and minute-to-minute attention, on an emotional level that certainly is not the case. As commonly quoted, "once a parent always a parent", regardless of the age, physical proximity, birth order or means by which a child enters the family. So when thinking about one child, or praying for one child, it sparks thoughts of and prayers for the other(s). And round and round the circle goes because they're all part of a larger community, interconnected by love. Victoria and I cannot fathom one without the other. And just when you think your love cannot stretch any further because your heart is so full of love for one or more, God stretches your heart to receive another (regardless of whether it's by birth or adoption or foster). And then, Voila! You're falling in love with another person that's now a member of your family when all the while you didn't think you could absorb one more. That's been the case for us, and that's been the case for almost all who have gone before us, millions upon millions upon millions. That's why we should not accept the common excuse that we cannot welcome another member into our families on the basis that we've run out of room in our hearts or that our "love-wells" are tapped dry.

So back to Annie. She's the one that I want to spotlight now. What's in the spotlight looks bright not only because the illumination is on it, but also because other things around it are muted, which makes that which is the focal much more beautiful. For so long now, among all us "old-timers" in our family, she's been the one in the background. But her effervescence is not lost there because it redirects light toward that which our family has been drawn to by God Himself - the growth of our clan with the adoption of Poppy, Willow & Piper (in that order). She, like Austin, Meagan and Barret, has been a glue for us. All three girls (& Barret) love her so much and light up whenever she's around. The house is more alive when she's home. Her silliness, propensity toward self-inflicted injury, seriousness, desire to follow the pathway God has for her, standards for excellence, perseverance, ups and downs... you name it, we love all of it. And most all she's been one to give entirely of herself to those in our growing family that she didn't grow up with, but are now kin with a bond that's as rich as blood itself. She amazes us, and we could not honor the Lord with our love to this expanding family without her (and Austin, Meagan & Barret, of course). These things (adoptions) require commitment from the whole, and when we see Annie love these girls the way she has and does, it melts our hearts and elevates our worship of Jesus.

Annie probably doesn't see herself this way, and will "die" when she reads this. I can hear her now; "Dad, why did you have to make that post all about me?" But such is Annie, which is just one more thing to love about her all the more.

With all our love to the "tall and stylish one",

Over the Sun

At our church, Grace Bible Church, we're going through a Sunday morning series from the book of Ecclesiastes (I think I've referenced this before). It's profound and attacks the very meaning of life itself - man's ultimate quandary to define existence and find a purpose. Henry David Thoreau (a great 19th Century essayist, poet and philosopher) once poignantly said, "Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them." His was not a divine revelation, but it resonates nonetheless with Solomon's when he penned in His book of Ecclesiastes (meaning the "gatherer", the "assembler") these words, "I have seen all the works which have been done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and striving after wind." (Chapter 1, Verse 14) If this were the end of the story, then man's existence is pathetic and hopeless, and in the end we all go to the grave like a painted clown.

While on one of my worship runs the other day (with iPod in tow) I happened to hear upon a song written by one of my favorite "go-to" Christian bands of late, Shane & Shane. The song perfectly pinpoints these deep pondering thoughts with a melody that helps me to remember that I am no longer "under the sun". Rather, I am over the sun in the Son, Jesus. Therefore I need not be, nor am I, one of Thoreau's singers that dies in quiet desperation. No, I am among the redeemed that will go to the grave singing a different song, one that resonates with the lyrics found in this one (click and listen, if you wish):

I write about this, as I do many reflective thoughts, because life, my life and your life, does not have to be a vanity of vanities or chasing after the wind. God has given us many means by which to point us toward the Source of the wind. They're all around us, enveloped in life itself. I would not know there is purpose beyond vanity but for God pointing a bright light in my face as I gazed into a vanity mirror (figuratively) to show me that life is not at all about me. Left to my own devices, I do indeed die in a life of masquerade. The masquerade is that my life is enough, and that I need none other. That's deceitful, because what I need is life outside of life, and that life cannot be found inside of this life. The only one that can give me that is the Giver of life, both in the here and in the hereafter.

Victoria and I are at a precipice of life right now. We're asking ourselves some hard questions. Surely our age has a lot to do with it, but more assuredly God's Spirit has everything to do with it. We find ourselves dissatisfied with life as we've known it - the good American dream that is. We don't loathe or condemn it, but as Victoria recently said to me, "The weight of the world is crushing." I'm not sure we're strong enough on our own to rise up against it and live at the same time in the midst of it. Victoria said, "Maybe we just need to sell everything." Maybe. That's what Jesus told the rich young ruler he must do, not to gain life, but to receive life because what he possessed blocked what he could not possess on his own (cf. Mark 10: 17-52). Victoria and I have life, but He's brought us to our senses that what He said was true, "You cannot serve both God and Money." (Matthew 6:24c)

I almost hate to write about these things because Victoria and I have had so many false starts. But if I don't write about them then they remain private and too easy to hide behind, as if they never rose to our senses in the first place. So for now we're committing every Monday to intense prayer, devotion and sacrifice to God (Victoria's idea, and a good one at that). We're praying that in living over the sun in the Son that He might do the possible with what seems so impossible to us right now, whatever that is.

Thank you for reading my stream of consciousness thought. Believe it or not, I'm actually at a better place with Jesus than I've ever been.

Living Over the Sun,

Food & Language

It commonly understood and expected that when adopting children the age of Piper, now 14, two of the most challenging transition hurdles to leap over are language and food. As we've written about so much already, both of those hurdles have been much lower than we expected. We also fully understand that our entire transition has been unusual from a relative perspective. Victoria and I were just chatting last night about the Lord's mercy upon us, wondering whether He just knew from the get-go that we simply couldn't handle much more than the ease by which He's kindly favored us. It's not perfect mind you - it's far from it, but let me elaborate on those two "hurdles" just a bit.

• Food: Chinese cuisine has become a staple in our home. Lots of rice ("mifan"), noodles, cooked vegetables with special Chinese spices, fresh fruits, fewer meats, etc... (We've run fresh out of chicken feet, however. Surprisingly, Xiao Qian never asks for them.) In the same way that we've adapted to Piper's more traditional cuisine, she's remarkably adapted to ours. She's a very brave little girl, and is willing to try just about anything. She's now eating more meats (which we don't think she had much of in China, except fish), starches and sugars (which may not necessarily be a good thing), salads, and even Mexican food (which she also likes, but not the beans). She's also become quite the cook, enjoying working with her Mama around the kitchen preparing meals. This is a special bonding time between Victoria and Piper. So overall, the food transition thing has really gone pretty well.

Language: Xiao Qian is a very smart woman, so her adaptability to our language has taken off like wild fire. While her English vocabulary is at the level of about a three year old, we're so impressed that it's even there. It could be at the level of an infant, which is pretty much no verbal communication at all. She's taking English Language Development classes everyday at school, but a majority of her English language development is happening right here in our own home. And she's not bashful about communicating, let us tell you. Like I blogged about before, the volume level in our household has risen significantly since she came home with us, and we're noticing the two little girls are being a lot louder too. I think our tolerance has started to build up, but it still gets to us from time to time. And here's a good indication of how far Xiao Qian's come in her English skills since she arrived: The other day she was Skype communicating with some of her friends in China and we noticed that she intermingled English and Mandarin into her sentences, almost like she was having a hard time knowing which language to use. Why we even heard her translate English into Chinese on Skype not too long ago; she even surprised herself when she did that. But here's one communication link that goes much deeper than mere words themselves. I haven't even shared this with Victoria yet. Yesterday I was in a bit of a "funk". I don't know why I get that way, but I do. I try real hard to hide it from the family, and I'm usually pretty good at it, but Victoria can read right through me. Well this time Xiao Qian also read right through me and asked in the afternoon, "Babi (that's she calls me), what wrong? Are you sad?" First of all, she now understands the emotional word in English, "sad". But more importantly, she could sense that something just wasn't quite right with me and was genuinely concerned. I thought this was a major breakthrough in our communication and signaled a whole new level of depth.

Well, that's it for now. I thought I'd just give you a brief update on these two significant and meaningful aspects of our family dynamics with Xiao Qian. We're experiencing some real frustrations (Victoria and me) with her lack of desire to go to bed at night and then complaining of being too tired throughout the day. This is just one of a few adjustments Victoria and I are wrestling with and trying to figure out how best to parent her in these areas. We're overjoyed she wants to be with us just about every moment of every day, but God's created us to also rest, and this is an area of tension for us right now.

Writing about rest, I need to go to bed. I'm tired too. Time for me to "shuijiao" - sleep. Aren't you impressed with our Mandarin skill development? (Cute picture of Willow "shuijiao-ing" above. Now I know that's pitiful Mandarin.)

Wan an,