So I have to post in this blog at least before the month is over. It's a bit difficult to post regularly in this blog when I have 5 other blogs, carefully divided into categories that reveal the different parts of me: educator, new mommy, prayer, tougher stuff. I like compartments sometimes. They at least help me organize my thoughts and they add some nice little themes to my life--ones that I'm certain will prove helpful when I begin to assemble my memoir. All these autobiographical tidbits will be useful and relatively easy to access, especially with the neat little "label" function on these blogs.
Anyway, I have a number of things I've wanted to write about in this, my semi-public blog, but whether it's the option of posting them in another blog, or the subtle intimidation that the very pronouncement, "I gotta write in my blog about this" introduces to the endeavor...I haven't successfully done so. Among the desired topics: my first time making a really good dinner after following a recipe (as seen on tv) and the joy that ensued (from the cook and the diners). Another topic I wanted to reflect on here was writing (again), as I was notably inspired upon reading Toni Morrison's Love. We share the same birthday, by the way. If I've been endowed with even a smidgeon of her talent, whew! That is yet to be determined.
Alas, life calls again. I'm off to have one last chat with Q before she leaves for college tomorrow. Thus, the blogging will resume later.
Oh, I do want to mention that I discovered an upcoming opportunity for bloggers to hear from Scott Rosenberg, the author of a book about blogging. It's called Say Everything: How Blogging Began, What It's Becoming, and Why It Matters. November 4th up at Cal. Hope to see you there! (I think that's the first time I've spoken directly to my readers in a blog, ever. Cool. (OK, enough with the metacognitive stuff)). Good night ;)
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
dreams | on writing
I really want to be a writer one day. I know, I know, I'm already a writer, right? In fact, I'm writing right now! But you know what I mean--a published author. One who has evidence of a process of thinking and articulating and putting thought to (ultimately) paper. And then of course, revision and feedback and finally...a tangible tri-dimensional artifact, complete with front cover and a nifty About the Author section. And of course a dedication--poignancy packed into just a petite few words. Ah! To have a published piece of work.
I know that I do indeed have a lot to offer, wherewith all of my experiences and funny way of retelling things, post-reflection and analysis. In fact, I have a journal full of personal experiences and circumstances that could very well make some bomb writing topics. At this point, I think it's just a matter of mustering enough courage to brave the risk that comes with writing, editing and publishing your work.
I mean, I just look at all these memoirs and witty fiction that are coming out and I get so excited. Like the one there, by the supermarket clerk who turned her humdrum, less-than-i-imagined, not-what-i-really-wanted kind of life into a bestseller! And it's a funny one too! Talk about making lemonade out of lemons! And I think it's great that in a world with so much diversity and different experiences that people like to bring to the forefront, underneath it all, we all have something in common with someone else. And others can benefit from seeing themselves in our stories--real or fiction.
So, to that end of stepping out of the box of anonymity and withheld talent, I am going forward with my dream of publishing a childrens' book for and about children of incarcerated parents. I know a friend from high school who maybe could illustrate it. We have an entire community of folks who would be able to relate to the subject, including churches that participate in the Angel Tree program, serving hundreds of kids here locally and hundreds of thousands nationally. I mean, it would be so amazing to be able to give these kids who often feel so isolated, whose parent's incarceration has become a secret condition, to be able to give them a book in which they can see themselves!
I don't even necessarily want to make a profit. I just want to give to kids who are like I was a chance to feel recognized, validated, and important. And I certainly don't have to be a best-seller, just want to impact some kids who need encouragement, and some folks who could use the insight on this oft-ignored fallout of mass incarceration. This venture would represent a unique coupling of my interests and talents: children of incarcerated parents + writing + testimony. All for the glory of God.
So, right now I'm researching existing children's books, the best of which so far seems to be this one, which like mine, highlights the love in the midst of the difficulty, and depicts an African-American family. Besides Woodson's book, it seems like there are very very few books that have been published in the past 5 years on the subject, nor are there many that show families of color or highlight the love that prevails. I think I've found a good niche here.
I've also been reading a book I've had for years now, All Alone in the World. It was written by a prolific journalist and highlights, with heart, the stories of these children in a format geared toward passionate workers for justice. I originally received it as a gift upon meeting with the director for Community Works, when I was applying for a job there years ago. It's funny (yet amazing) how these opportunities just build upon each other and how as long as your passion never dies, neither will the possibilities for your dreams.
A man’s gift makes room for him, And brings him before great men. Proverbs 18.16.
i.e. your gifts will make room for you, and cause you to go places you never imagined. At least that's my interpretation...
I know that I do indeed have a lot to offer, wherewith all of my experiences and funny way of retelling things, post-reflection and analysis. In fact, I have a journal full of personal experiences and circumstances that could very well make some bomb writing topics. At this point, I think it's just a matter of mustering enough courage to brave the risk that comes with writing, editing and publishing your work.
I mean, I just look at all these memoirs and witty fiction that are coming out and I get so excited. Like the one there, by the supermarket clerk who turned her humdrum, less-than-i-imagined, not-what-i-really-wanted kind of life into a bestseller! And it's a funny one too! Talk about making lemonade out of lemons! And I think it's great that in a world with so much diversity and different experiences that people like to bring to the forefront, underneath it all, we all have something in common with someone else. And others can benefit from seeing themselves in our stories--real or fiction.
So, to that end of stepping out of the box of anonymity and withheld talent, I am going forward with my dream of publishing a childrens' book for and about children of incarcerated parents. I know a friend from high school who maybe could illustrate it. We have an entire community of folks who would be able to relate to the subject, including churches that participate in the Angel Tree program, serving hundreds of kids here locally and hundreds of thousands nationally. I mean, it would be so amazing to be able to give these kids who often feel so isolated, whose parent's incarceration has become a secret condition, to be able to give them a book in which they can see themselves!
I don't even necessarily want to make a profit. I just want to give to kids who are like I was a chance to feel recognized, validated, and important. And I certainly don't have to be a best-seller, just want to impact some kids who need encouragement, and some folks who could use the insight on this oft-ignored fallout of mass incarceration. This venture would represent a unique coupling of my interests and talents: children of incarcerated parents + writing + testimony. All for the glory of God.
So, right now I'm researching existing children's books, the best of which so far seems to be this one, which like mine, highlights the love in the midst of the difficulty, and depicts an African-American family. Besides Woodson's book, it seems like there are very very few books that have been published in the past 5 years on the subject, nor are there many that show families of color or highlight the love that prevails. I think I've found a good niche here.
I've also been reading a book I've had for years now, All Alone in the World. It was written by a prolific journalist and highlights, with heart, the stories of these children in a format geared toward passionate workers for justice. I originally received it as a gift upon meeting with the director for Community Works, when I was applying for a job there years ago. It's funny (yet amazing) how these opportunities just build upon each other and how as long as your passion never dies, neither will the possibilities for your dreams.
A man’s gift makes room for him, And brings him before great men. Proverbs 18.16.
i.e. your gifts will make room for you, and cause you to go places you never imagined. At least that's my interpretation...
Friday, July 24, 2009
community | growing as mothers
So I just got done meeting with jj, a woman I respect and admire. As a pastor's daughter, ministry leader & partner to us, thinker, mom and wife, she has quite a bit of experience and insight that has already proven helpful to me. As she shared of their time living abroad, leading ministry and going through various transitions from students, to living internationally, to campus ministry leaders, and just as husband and wife, I definitely had some ideas flowing. Most notably, I really get the sense that everything will most certainly be okay. That everything we're experiencing now is only a part of the journey.
I'm really thankful for community. I'm looking forward to continuing to build that community around us as a family, couple, husband, wife, pastor, first lady, mom, everything. I shared with jj how there are a couple folks in our lives that we really, really trust. Who don't gossip, try to compete, who aren't jealous, who are spiritually mature, experienced in life, reflective, willing to speak the truth in love, who respect our roles as pastor and first lady and are 100% willing to defer to our judgment when it really comes down to it. Those are the golden folks, the people who we will be able to count on and who will pour into our lives and help us bear the burdens, including those ministry can bring into the equation.
It is totally fine that not everyone will fit into that category. Some others will be Timothys--ones who we will pour into and help on the journey. While those relationships will not be entirely one-sided, their nature will largely be defined by a degree of sharing only as is reasonably manageable, and for the purpose of edification. In other words, it's fine and normal only to share with people only what both sides can handle. And as the relationships mature, we'll use discernment and go along as it comes.
I'm looking forward to more intentionally connecting with women who are mothers and who are into education and social justice. It's going to be nice to reach out to more people who have similar interests to mine, and who want to raise their children to be mindful and loving toward others, and to love learning and fun as well. It is not necessary for a woman to be a Christian in order for us to connect. I think that's one of the hidden blessings that has come with becoming a mother myself, that I have been able to connect with more women than before, simply because we both have children. I can still remember my mom hanging out with women from time to time--women who were of different races and various circumstances, but with whom she could, if nothing else, connect with about mothering. It was always fun for me as a kid to hang out with their children while my mom and her friend (Mary, Sabrina, Lynn, Michelle, Susan) talked. A less-intentional form of a playdate, I suppose.
And now that it's my turn to think about and plan playdates, I'm blessed and honored to have a great selection of like-minded mothers around me. Ones who are still trying to understand what it means to be successful even when its traditional forms, which we've gotten accustomed to, suddenly escape us (prestigious schools, work that's both professional and passionate, awards and accolades). Mothers who grapple with the realities of our time: wanting to carry out some traditional roles of women, yet now doing so in a postmodern society that urges women to operate in, shall we say, a newfound freedom, a life with less boundaries. Ah, the progress in which we so foolishly believe (cf. Tropic of Orange).
Nonetheless, I look forward to connecting in new ways with those facing some of the same issues, transitions, joys, and questions that I am. I know that in a multitude of counsel, there is wisdom, and I am committed to seeking out that wise counsel without fear. Even when the hesitation creeps in, I will still venture to defeat it. I pray that God will continue to help me be trusting, open and willing to get to know others, and to love them with a gentleness, sincerity and authenticity that comes only from Him.
Without counsel, plans go awry, But in the multitude of counselors they are established. Prov. 15:22.
I'm really thankful for community. I'm looking forward to continuing to build that community around us as a family, couple, husband, wife, pastor, first lady, mom, everything. I shared with jj how there are a couple folks in our lives that we really, really trust. Who don't gossip, try to compete, who aren't jealous, who are spiritually mature, experienced in life, reflective, willing to speak the truth in love, who respect our roles as pastor and first lady and are 100% willing to defer to our judgment when it really comes down to it. Those are the golden folks, the people who we will be able to count on and who will pour into our lives and help us bear the burdens, including those ministry can bring into the equation.
It is totally fine that not everyone will fit into that category. Some others will be Timothys--ones who we will pour into and help on the journey. While those relationships will not be entirely one-sided, their nature will largely be defined by a degree of sharing only as is reasonably manageable, and for the purpose of edification. In other words, it's fine and normal only to share with people only what both sides can handle. And as the relationships mature, we'll use discernment and go along as it comes.
I'm looking forward to more intentionally connecting with women who are mothers and who are into education and social justice. It's going to be nice to reach out to more people who have similar interests to mine, and who want to raise their children to be mindful and loving toward others, and to love learning and fun as well. It is not necessary for a woman to be a Christian in order for us to connect. I think that's one of the hidden blessings that has come with becoming a mother myself, that I have been able to connect with more women than before, simply because we both have children. I can still remember my mom hanging out with women from time to time--women who were of different races and various circumstances, but with whom she could, if nothing else, connect with about mothering. It was always fun for me as a kid to hang out with their children while my mom and her friend (Mary, Sabrina, Lynn, Michelle, Susan) talked. A less-intentional form of a playdate, I suppose.
And now that it's my turn to think about and plan playdates, I'm blessed and honored to have a great selection of like-minded mothers around me. Ones who are still trying to understand what it means to be successful even when its traditional forms, which we've gotten accustomed to, suddenly escape us (prestigious schools, work that's both professional and passionate, awards and accolades). Mothers who grapple with the realities of our time: wanting to carry out some traditional roles of women, yet now doing so in a postmodern society that urges women to operate in, shall we say, a newfound freedom, a life with less boundaries. Ah, the progress in which we so foolishly believe (cf. Tropic of Orange).
Nonetheless, I look forward to connecting in new ways with those facing some of the same issues, transitions, joys, and questions that I am. I know that in a multitude of counsel, there is wisdom, and I am committed to seeking out that wise counsel without fear. Even when the hesitation creeps in, I will still venture to defeat it. I pray that God will continue to help me be trusting, open and willing to get to know others, and to love them with a gentleness, sincerity and authenticity that comes only from Him.
Without counsel, plans go awry, But in the multitude of counselors they are established. Prov. 15:22.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Reflection | My Sister's Keeper
As promised months before it came out, I went to see Sister's Keeper with Q today. We were originally drawn to it largely because of its title, or at least I was, largely because we can both relate to having that title in our own lives. We are our sister's keepers. First because she was deaf. And then because she was not well. Just the glimpses of those two title sisters holding onto one another for dear life reminded me of how I've felt with Nettie plenty times before. In a mall in So Cal, in a hospital in Fresno, in a sandbox on Pleasant. No importa where, mas importa how.
So when we first heard of the movie, Q and I determined we'd have to see it together, knowing that perhaps it would take us on a trip down memory lane. Confident that it'd spark in us a reflection on how we love our dear sister in that way only bearers of the weight of illness can grasp. The story did not disappoint. It certainly called to mind a number of components of the untold story of familial coping with illness. I recognized the heightened dysfunction, the constant tug-of-war over whose will is most noble, the desire to advocate somehow aggressed into anger and abuse, and the woeful apology that blares through it all, though muffled. It finally emerges, whispered.
I am sorry for hurt the family. Very sorry.
Even though it was never her fault. Nor is the need for the apology the fault of the family. The sickness is no one's fault; the aggressive love is no one's fault, but all the while, the pain is very real. It is a difficult cycle whose origination, impact and legacy are quite hard to discern.
Nonetheless, as has ours, the family in the movie persists. Despite the darkness, the questions, the ups, downs and everything in between, they figured out a way to love each other. Masked, shrouded, flattened, silenced, or even mangled...Love still prevails.
Thank you, Jesus.
So when we first heard of the movie, Q and I determined we'd have to see it together, knowing that perhaps it would take us on a trip down memory lane. Confident that it'd spark in us a reflection on how we love our dear sister in that way only bearers of the weight of illness can grasp. The story did not disappoint. It certainly called to mind a number of components of the untold story of familial coping with illness. I recognized the heightened dysfunction, the constant tug-of-war over whose will is most noble, the desire to advocate somehow aggressed into anger and abuse, and the woeful apology that blares through it all, though muffled. It finally emerges, whispered.
I am sorry for hurt the family. Very sorry.
Even though it was never her fault. Nor is the need for the apology the fault of the family. The sickness is no one's fault; the aggressive love is no one's fault, but all the while, the pain is very real. It is a difficult cycle whose origination, impact and legacy are quite hard to discern.
Nonetheless, as has ours, the family in the movie persists. Despite the darkness, the questions, the ups, downs and everything in between, they figured out a way to love each other. Masked, shrouded, flattened, silenced, or even mangled...Love still prevails.
Thank you, Jesus.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
community | commited to transformation
It is so beautiful to be a part of a community. Who would have thought when I moved here years ago that I would eventually settle here, develop a family here, and join the community that already existed, much less aid in the process of building another one based on God's love? I just walked up to B-Tech today, checking out the campus in preparation for my return in the fall. Man, I miss that place. When I first went there, it was largely because of the students, wanting to work with them in particular. Now, I'm glad to be going back because of the staff. Our relationships have grown and deepened over these past few years and I'm truly excited about reintegrating myself into the family. Even though just about all the students are ones I don't really know, it'll be great to still have some connection to their families, older siblings, and of course, their teachers.
The overlap that I feel between: our church, our family, the school, BOCA, just all of them together, is so inspiring. I mean, what if every city in America had a network of folks working together to ensure the progress of those with their backs against the wall? What if every urban place you visit had, in spite of its incidences of violence and sub-par educational experiences for youth of color, what if those places had community? A family web that kept folks accountable to one another, that forced them to ask the question, "What am I doing with my life? What am I doing to myself? What am I doing for my family?". What if we were indeed the ones?
I'm confident that the "in spite of" would turn surely turn into "instead of". That the community would trump the forces working against them. That's what we're looking for here in Berkeley. That folks' quality of life will increase, that the statistics that predict their (our) demise would cease to intimidate. And that hope would be restored. In fact, hope is already restored; it is here through the presence of the faithful few who are committed to seeing what others do not (and perhaps cannot). Because of our confidence in the One who is greater than we are, we are able to press on and run this race with vigor. We know that it is merely our endurance that matters most, considering that the race is not given to the swift, nor the strong, but to the one who endures (Solomon, in Eccl. 9.11).
Whether we have the qualifications that traditionally correlate with victory (talents, skills, education, strength), we can rest assured that what ensures our victory is staying in the race, not quitting, not relying on our own apparent strength. These are the best that we can do. Beyond our best exists only God. He will step in, fill every void, complete every missing link, and make every crooked place straight. He is the reason we hope in the unseen.
Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. (Heb 11.1)
The overlap that I feel between: our church, our family, the school, BOCA, just all of them together, is so inspiring. I mean, what if every city in America had a network of folks working together to ensure the progress of those with their backs against the wall? What if every urban place you visit had, in spite of its incidences of violence and sub-par educational experiences for youth of color, what if those places had community? A family web that kept folks accountable to one another, that forced them to ask the question, "What am I doing with my life? What am I doing to myself? What am I doing for my family?". What if we were indeed the ones?
I'm confident that the "in spite of" would turn surely turn into "instead of". That the community would trump the forces working against them. That's what we're looking for here in Berkeley. That folks' quality of life will increase, that the statistics that predict their (our) demise would cease to intimidate. And that hope would be restored. In fact, hope is already restored; it is here through the presence of the faithful few who are committed to seeing what others do not (and perhaps cannot). Because of our confidence in the One who is greater than we are, we are able to press on and run this race with vigor. We know that it is merely our endurance that matters most, considering that the race is not given to the swift, nor the strong, but to the one who endures (Solomon, in Eccl. 9.11).
Whether we have the qualifications that traditionally correlate with victory (talents, skills, education, strength), we can rest assured that what ensures our victory is staying in the race, not quitting, not relying on our own apparent strength. These are the best that we can do. Beyond our best exists only God. He will step in, fill every void, complete every missing link, and make every crooked place straight. He is the reason we hope in the unseen.
Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. (Heb 11.1)
Monday, July 13, 2009
the start | purposeful inquiry
It's been months now that I have been seriously wanting to create a blog that would showcase my thoughts, invite conversations, and ultimately, provide a forum for purposeful inquiry. If you were to search a dictionary, inquiry refers to a search for truth, knowledge, or information. These, I certainly seek. Still, above all else, I seek God--His ways, His will, His presence in my daily life. Even in the rawness and uncertainty, I'm sure that He's there, though my antennas are sometimes out of tune.
So, this blog will basically be a cumulative collection of various reflections I have. The spark of inspiration will surely vary. News as it happens. Questions for which I seek answers. Impressionable lines I read in books or the Bible. Whatever the spark, I am committing to bridling my thoughts, writing them with cohesion, and sharing them for the edification of whoever will read them. I expect this process to be liberating for me as it is the first blog I'm actually making public. I expect it to be fun, an opportunity to share the gifts God has given me. And I expect it to connect me with folks on an intimate level, inasmuch as sharing thoughts necessitates.
Sometimes redundant, sometimes apparently obvious, my ruminations nonetheless represent me. I just hope my written presentation of them will represent me just as well.
So, this blog will basically be a cumulative collection of various reflections I have. The spark of inspiration will surely vary. News as it happens. Questions for which I seek answers. Impressionable lines I read in books or the Bible. Whatever the spark, I am committing to bridling my thoughts, writing them with cohesion, and sharing them for the edification of whoever will read them. I expect this process to be liberating for me as it is the first blog I'm actually making public. I expect it to be fun, an opportunity to share the gifts God has given me. And I expect it to connect me with folks on an intimate level, inasmuch as sharing thoughts necessitates.
Sometimes redundant, sometimes apparently obvious, my ruminations nonetheless represent me. I just hope my written presentation of them will represent me just as well.
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