Running

"When I first took up running, it could be more accurately described as "wunning," because I would walk and run. I would be walking, and then I would talk myself into running for just five minutes. Once I was over that five-minute hurdle, I found that I could run ten minutes. And so it went. I discovered it required some perseverance and self-discipline on my part to build up endurance for running. Show me a person who is successful in anything, and I will show you a person who has some discipline. In the same way, to be successful spiritually means consistently embracing what will help us spiritually while turning away from anything that would weaken our walk. It comes down to exercising and applying discipline in our lives as Christians. I know that's a word we don't like to hear. We don't like the idea of discipline. But if we want to be successful as followers of Christ, then we will need discipline in our lives. I believe that one of the most important things that will help us spiritually is getting God's Word into our lives on a consistent basis. We must learn to daily study the Bible and hide it in our hearts, and we can start a little at a time—like me and my "wunning."

Leave it to an evangelist to sum up my life. I'm tired of the backwards steps, and the inevitable feeling that you're getting nowhere. Gotta get some of that discipline boost along the way. Ya, that'll do it. Anyone have some handy?

Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Have you ever felt like all the love in your heart is directed in all the wrong places? Like you've put your last quarter in the near extinct payphone only to pick up the receiver of the phone next to it and not get a dialtone? There's that panic involved in letting that last quarter loose and not having your emergency call tap through. Guess that's what happens when you don't intentionally seek after God. You love the things of this world, but the things of this world build you up and up and up, then suddenly drop you off a 10 story cliff. That's the day you wake up and are bewildered to realize that you've gone way past your exit. So not only will you be late getting to where you're going, but you might also run out of gas turning back. It's all about pain. Pain that you've brought on yourself.

Redemption, fulfillment, and joy. What does it all mean?

Go ahead, world, take your best shot. I've been there before; I'm ready to fall again.

Time After Time

It boggles my mind that I can survey the past and see how my choices have influenced and perhaps even steered how the Lord has cut in half, reversed, and even killed dreams that were not in line with His will. But what does that matter if those dreams were simply visions of what my own, ill-governed heart dreamt up?

Just recently, a friend (thanks, g!) reminded me that it's not happiness that the Lord promises us. But He so desires to give us His blessings. I often look with bewilderment upon myself when I choose all but what God wants for me, those things that He knows I need. My weak-faith-laced distrust of the only giver of good things does nothing but dispell the illusive hope I so desperately need.

Now therefore reflect carefully on the recent past, before one stone was laid on another in the Lord’s temple. From that time when one came expecting a heap of twenty measures, there were only ten; when one came to the wine vat to draw out fifty measures from it, there were only twenty. I struck all the products of your labor with blight, disease, and hail, and yet you brought nothing to me,’ says the Lord. ‘Think carefully about the past: from today, the twenty-fourth day of the ninth month, to the day work on the temple of the Lord was resumed, think about it. The seed is still in the storehouse, isn’t it? And the vine, fig tree, pomegranate, and olive tree have not produced. Nevertheless, from today on I will bless you.’” Haggai 2:15-19

Okay head, talk to my heart. I want those blessings!

Now That You're Near

This weekend, as I lay practically immobilized by periodic stomach pains and playing host to a ping pong game between a fever and a headache, I was reminded of God's perseverance. How much so do those I expect care and concern from disappoint me. But from God, how much more does He care for me, regardless of how far I stray? When I take a trip away from home, He remembers me. When I fall ill, He watches over me and takes care of me. He remembers me. And how much I do cherish His remembrance of me.

The older I get, the more I understand how differently God has wired women and men. Outside of the obvious unlikenesses, we women tend to be more insecure, needing constant reassurance. This, I find, can be the source of far too many miscommunications and misguided expectations. Is it because we have been tagged the weaker sex and the helper and thus have subsequently forced ourselves into these predetermined molds? Or is it simply because that's the way we were created? Regardless of why it's this way, it's just that way. And in relationships, there's got to be some effort from the girl to not be so needy, while the guy has to show care even when he doesn't feel the need. Ah, if it were only that simple.

Thankfully God provides ample love beyond what we think we need. He remembers us. He remembers me.

Coming Attractions

Just before I headed out the door to meet my coworker for a ride to SFO, United emailed to announce a two hour delay to my flight. Good thing I checked before taking off! So after a nap, some golf on TV, and a little weekend cleaning, I headed off for a weeklong toil in the far east.

Armed with a handful of crosswords, Alice's Walmart book, and my mp3 player, I thought I was ready for the 12 hour flight. And just as we were in queue to take off, the tower called us back to the gate to troubleshoot an electrical problem with engine #3. I can't say I was disappointed they caught the problem before we took off, but they did make us sit another two hours before we left SFO. And to my dismay, I was seated next to the most fidgety men on the plane, who could not sit still for the life of them (what exactly does that phrase mean anyhow?). Add in a few not so entertaining movies, some nasty Chinese American plane food (the instant noodle snack mid-flight was the best meal), and you have for a rather unpleasant jaunt to the office. But the worst part didn't hit until the next morning.

95F with a heat index of 110F. Did I mention I witnessed the first run of a fire test facility at the plant? The pretty flames were cool to look at, but man, if it wasn't hot enough to begin with...

The one redeeming part of this trip so far has been the food, which has been predictably decent. Oh, and seeing a few coworkers again. They seemed to have recovered well from their visit to ALCF with me last year. And I do look forward to continuing that conversation with them this week.

Stir fried snake heads with celery shoots anyone?

Climb Every Mountain Part II

It is with with great joy that I type this entry with all 10 finger digits in tact! Half Dome has been conquered, and hence, crossed off the proverbial list with permanent ink. *insert smug grin here* Okay, so it wasn't actually conquered, more like scaled, or shall we just say that I got up and down with no flying Tupperware hurled down at me with the force of a sledge hammer? Outside of being out of shape and being feasted on by a few dozen skeeters, I hiked the 18 mile, 4500+ ft of elevation without requiring emegency evacuation or the need to run down the mountain in record time to avoid appendage amputation. God is good, and even better the second time around.

It is finished.

I Am Desperate For You

There are times when teaching is not enough, when lessons are better experientially learned. Turn off your brain and let life lead you by the hand. This past Sunday, my pastor let me do just that...gave my head a rest and let my heart experience worship.

Climbing out of bed was quite the chore. And even more hindering was the long, arduous walk to church. Every bone in my body yearned to roll back into my comfy bed and doze the day away. But somehow, the Spirit motored my legs the quarter mile to my preferred place of worship. After Pastor Paul's 10 minute exhortation, of which I do not remember much, the transformation of attitude commenced. Terrance and Portia led the singing fest off with an upbeat, joyful tune that brought parishoners to their feet. But the magnitude of my sin caused me to grieve in the midst of what should have been celebration. I could not lift my hands, chained by a burdened heart, caused by a chasm dug by my own depravity. Then suddenly, as if God landed a decisive one-two punch on the evil one, my guilt turned into a sense of privilege and an awareness that an amazing dose of grace was gifted to me. It then became a new day, and worship began. And my most prized form of communication with the Lord came to life again (I believe that music, especially harmony, was just too good for God to keep to Himself). And the best part - when the Spirit led Portia to sing a melodic prayer for the pastor. Oh my sweet, sweet Lord.

I didn't want it to end.

Anyone Out There

Is anyone home?

What originally started out as an outlet for my random musings has become a black hole for monthly, inconsequential brain farts. I don't know why it means anything to me, that someone reads my ramblings. But honestly speaking, it does. I guess it would help if I publicized this site, but I am wary of letting the riffraff in. So to the few and far between who do read my blog, is it worth it for me to continue?

I write this while I'm a bit tipsy, too, so take what I say with a large grain of salt. My bed is squeaking to my heartbeat, very weird.

The Remedy

Between you and me, this new job is tough. In my little mind, I have the end goal all tied up in a little pretty package, complete with a shiny bow and matching tag. How to get from here to there is a bit fuzzy, but the steps are not completely indelible. The problem is motivation. How do you bring others to run the race with you?

I find myself pondering the way Jesus led His disciples throughout His three year, active ministry here on earth. And as ideal a leader as He exemplified, there were still times He caught them sleeping on the job, panicking when the winds rocked their otherwise placid world, and allowing greed and selfish ambition to pave the way. But what can you expect? They were mere men! So if the greatest leader of all time had problems with His less than perfect flock, then how much better can a marred excuse for a captain lead an equally sinful crew?

Okay, I'll leave that question unanswered. Time to take the pessimistic cap off. As I begin to meliorate my wielding-the-wand-of-authority skills over my 180 fledglings, I sense a need for change, mondo change. Not having intentionally sought it out myself, my curiousity is causing me to more carefully gander at the wares my recruiting "friends" have thrown my way. Exciting times coming...I hope...I pray...

Second Best

Congratulations to me. I've officially set a new personal record...heaviest weight in five years. I'd celebrate with a couple heaping scoops of mint chocolate chunk ice cream in my newly painted kiwi bowl or bake my mom's famous pineapple custard cake, but then I'd be celebrating breaking this record everyday until I explode. I can't say I'm stunned by the extraneous poundage; blessings in my life bring grins along with a healthier appetite for the gastronomic goodies. Mmmm.

With all that said, Pastor Zac reminded us yesterday that being the recipient of bestowed blessings doesn't always mean that God is pleased with us. Even though God showered His people with manna and water in the dessert for 40 years, He was not happy, choosing to allow many of them to perish without ever having stepped a sandal in the promised land. And so I am stirred out of my LaZBoy recliner in revelation that the presence of presents in my life is not necessarily a consequence of approval by the one whose affirmation I should seek first. But I so do desire His favor, whatever the subsequent spoils, be it gifted or reneged. And hence I am innervated to live more intentionally to His righteous standard.

It is a difficult adventure, the pursuit of this holy nod. But as our Hebrews hall of fame compatriots would attest, the journey is well worth the effort.

All I Want continued

Another recruiter called and emailed me today with another job opportunity. Apparently I have yet to internalize this lesson I'm supposed to learn...

All I Want

What's up with this weather? God just can't decide whether to make it spring or keep it winter here in northern Cal. I think He's just teasing us, giving us a little taste of the good stuff, then yanking it back just when we've traded our sweaters and scarves for shorts and sandals. But nevermind the mind games. The switchback seems to suit my season conflicting cravings that exemplify my juvenile-like, adult stage of life. Golf, tennis, and skiing all in the same week...only in Northern California. Funny how complaining has slowly infiltrated what was once and should still be nothing but blessing. So that's my self, slap in the face of a reminder that life is good here in the Bay area.

And so it is with my career as well, except backwards. I am the first to admit that I hold a good job. More times than not, I am intellectually challenged, enjoy the company of my coworkers enough to grab a drink with them off the clock, and am compensated enough to fork over a chunk of my paycheck to the mortgage bank and still play golf once a week with the leftover. I honestly have nothing to complain about; this job is nothing short of a blessing, giving me no grounds for lament. But in stability often comes complacency with me. So shouldn't I be looking to stay fresh in my field by finding new avenues to discover the latest in polymer engineering (there are advances in plastics everyday!) and develop new skills? These last couple weeks, a couple recruiters reminded me that there are these sorts of opportunities outside of the familiar, positive cash flowing, Redwood City office I've called home for many years. And what about moving up the proverbial ladder? Ambition was reintroduced to me when I heard a classmate had recently moved to the area to serve as a senior director at Cisco. Granted, that's not the norm. But aspiration, it's taken a back seat to status quo. That has to change.

And there I went, fueled with a pipe dream or two propelling me down the hall into my boss' office...

Let Go

The choices we consciously make shape our lives. I find that we are persistent in our pursuit to be the dictators of our destinies, making intentional steps toward fortune and hopefully, non-fleeting happiness. But do we limit the amazing things God can do and bring into our lives when we choose to get overly involved, to hold fast to the reigns and not let the one who knows what He is doing take the wheel?

Personally, I don't like to drive. But I also don't like not knowing where I'm going. Letting someone else drive is one thing, but taking a nap while my driver navigates and chooses my destination is another. But I've found that instilling that sort of blind trust in the Lord allows Him to come up with some of the best surprises. It's like finding a freshly laundered $20 bill at the bottom of the washing machine well after fishing out a wet load. Heck, I'm happy when I find a quarter in there! Or how about getting a free, second dish of jap chae along with a friendly smile at a yummy Korean dive. God is a god of marvels, and surprises are His specialty. Do I not want to share in those joyous gestures He wants to bestow on me? So I'm thinking, without God, the number line would stop at zero. Without God, there'd be no imaginary numbers, no fourth dimension that's impossible to graph (I could go on with the nerdy allegories, but then I would incriminate myself - isn't there a law protecting us from that?). Bottomline, without God, I'd be lost. And without Jesus as driver, I'd totally be missing out. He is a limitless god who cannot be confined to the boundaries of my imagination.

So I say, go God, go. Jia you!

(Ask me about the crazy, out of left field blessings He's thrown my way lately. I might just share them with you, as I go pick up the socks He's knocked off my feet...)

On a High

Freedom. It comes at a price. But isn't that a driving force for us to put value in things? The higher the cost, the greater the value. Talking to a coworker this morning about the free showing of The Chornicles of Narnia my old church sponsored on Saturday night, we agreed that the quality of the movie doesn't matter much when it's free (not to say that film was a bust, on the contrary). But if you've plopped down $30 for a couple of tickets and some snacks, and the film fails to entertain, then you feel slighted. And so it is with joy in my life. It has cost me much, causing me to cleave to it with everything I am.

These last few years, I have had no freedom. Hope alluded me, so all I had was today. At the end of everyday, I was grateful that He gave me the strength to make it through, and sometimes I even had the occasion to smile. But what about tomorrow or the next day? I did not believe His mercies were new every morning, at least not for me. I did have faith in God, though. But how, you ask, can you have faith but no hope? In trying to reconcile the two, the Lord has reintroduced to me the way He loves me...at a high price, without question, and just as much tomorrow as He does today.

"When he is at work in the north, I do not see him; when he turns to the south, I catch no glimpse of him. But he knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold." Job 23:9-10

Suddenly I can pray without worrying about God refusing to hear me. I'm excited to be awoken before my alarm Sunday morning to worship the Lord with my church community. And the Word? It's alive again. Guess there was a good reason He kept those words in my heart all this time.

It's good to be home.

Golliwogg's Cake Walk

I was expecting to have a quiet, work filled day hiding inside from the wet drear that defines the start of of the northeast winter. But my plans were stilted when little Megan crawled into bed with me at 7:30am (I usually am up at that hour, but on PST, mind you). I pleaded for some extra sleep time, which she surprisingly agreed to. But it took only 15 minutes for her to interrupt my morning nap with a gentle, "Aunt Annie, let's not sleep anymore, okay?" How could I say no? Actually, I didn't say anything, and eventually she gave up, since I woke up alone at 9:30. Between hide and go seek, watching the Incredibles, and making sprinkled covered, chocolate-dipped marshmellows, Megan and I decided to squeeze a little piano time into our packed play schedule. And it was then that I had another revolutionary reunion.

Years ago in my junior and senior high school days, I met a master communicator who spoke more personally to me than anyone had ever dared. His ability to move my lackluster emotions to new heights compared to none. His name was Claude. How's that for an everyday name? Claude Debussy was able to make my fingers speak in ways that words could never do. His music led me all the way from deep, personal exploration to performance and competition for the enjoyment of others. In a way, he taught me to simply feel, and to feel with confidence, if that makes any sense. I met him again today. And I was reminded that this language that had become my mother tongue in my youth had been suppressed for too long. My deadened heart was awoken. The bonus in all this? It brought new meaning to bonding with my three year old niece.

Thanks, Claude.

Look What You've Done

Is it possible to live in contradiction? Finding joy in the day to day has been relatively easy lately, as I've made a conscious decision to recognize God's gifts at all levels. I'm grateful for everything from my well-designed, Japanese nail clipper that catches my errant, unwanted toe nails, my 5 wood, even though it lets me down 40% of the time, all the way up to the folks who have shared their daily days and nights of late with me. God's longsuffering wipes up the splattering of my bad decisions and ferrets a better Annie out of the crevices where I hide with my sins. Everyday, I am more conscious of His mercy, more stupified that He offers it on a regular basis to me. The good things become even better in this light.

But to look ahead to the years down the line destroys the smile I adorn during the waking hours. Hope alludes me. To put that non-refundable deposit on fleeting happiness, well that just seems nonsensical to me. My rest comes at the end of a day, knowing that I have made it through another 16 hours experiencing the little joys of today. Tomorrow? It does not belong to me.

So to those who see the golf slugging, corporate climbing, merry Annie, I've fooled you. I've made a fool of...well, just me.

Long Lost Friend

(written on the plane from NRT to SFO 23 October)

Being able to relive Sunday gave me extra time to put my jetlagged thoughts into a more cohesive narrative on my brief trip to Japan. Seeing as this was Asia, it wasn't a surprise that I was able to fulfill a few quality culinary pursuits in the form of melt in your mouth sushi, ramen far superior to its supermarket wanna be counterpart, and onigiri that just goes to show that the Japanese really do know their rice. My tastebuds could have gone home content after consuming these treats, but there were still cultural faux pas's to be made, overpriced souvenirs to be purchased, and shrines to be photographed on this trip.

What they say about the streets and railway stations of Tokyo being packed is true, and everyone on the subway is either asleep or completely zoned into playing games on their cell phones. But the sardine can of a subway station was surprisingly bearable, because there was not an annoying ring tone on volume setting 6 to be heard, turning the heads of irritated passersby. So in the midst of the class 3 rapids at Tokyo station, it was actually rather peaceful. I can't say this has negated my traumatic travelling experiences in China (especially on the bus), but hey, you have to start somewhere, or at least that's what the therapist tells me.

Kyoto lived up to its postcard-esque reputation, even though I didn't catch the brilliant fall foliage or celebrated cherry blossom spring season. It had character, though, rich in history, courtesy, and overall charm. If I had to choose amongst Tokyo, Kyoto, Nikko, and Koyasan (the four cities I visited), I'd choose Kyoto to make my home.

By far, though, the highlight of my week abroad was the reunion with my third grade best friend, Mariko. After more than two decades since our last goodbye, God saw fit to let us rekindle a friendship built on recess, ABCs, origami gifts, countless letters, and birthday and Christmas cards. It was an experience to talk to her on the phone, as I did not recognize the gentle, yet joking voice speaking to me in nearly perfect English. Finally seeing her in the train station was quite the event; I think my friends identified her before me by the jacket she told us she was wearing and the friendly wave she offered. When I saw her, I was struck by how beautiful she grew up to be, and how familiar her eyes and smile were. Two hours and a plate full of tempura later, I was amazed at how well this stranger knew me.

Waving good bye in the train station made me sad, for fear I would have to wait another 20 years or so to see her again. So now it's your turn, Mariko, to meet me on the west side, and soon, so our reunion doesn't have to be overshadowed by the doleful cloud of a long, impending separation.

Having more closely considered my latest Asian jaunt, I only vaguely recall the sights, tastes, and smells of Japan. All of that was upstaged by the re-illumination of a special friendship.

You Raise Me Up

Play up. That's probably some of the best advice I've gotten in a long time, better even, than the commericial adage "Just Do It". I've noticed that I have a slight inclination to settle into less than what I'm capable of just because I'm not challenged. Life at the office is this way. It's a great place to work, mostly because of the people. But also because you can get away with average work and be labeled a high performer. If I worked my butt off, I would probably run the joint, not because I'm the most qualified, but simply because I'm the one who actually does everything I was hired to do.

Tennis is the same. Whenever I play less skilled players, I ease back into the lob-dink, not so aerobic sporting where I have to convince myself to take a shower afterwards. Don't get me wrong; I still have fun. It's tennis afterall. But I too easily meld into the mediocre, drift with the status quo, and look apathetically at change as to practically not recognize it.

So what am I striving to play up to? Running. Running alone keeps me at my slow, 10 minute mile, trek-it-back-home-after-two-miles pace. Skiing. Helping beginners resigns me to the easy blues, greens, and bunny slopes. Karaoke. Okay, there are some things better left untouched. But most importantly, I am on my way to looking up to the higher standard that the Lord intended for me.

We've begun a new small group, exploring what it might look like to imitate the early church in Acts. Imagine being just as concerned with the spiritual health and growth of other members of your church as you are for yourself. Prayer times originally intended to tick off the request list transform into extended, worshipful, communing times with the Lord. Sin travels all the way to reconciliation without getting stuck at shame so that God gets glory for our sin. Imagine that! And we study God's word directly, not some other person's interpretation of God's word. It's a tough road to stick to, but with God rooting for us, how can we lose?

Did I mention we also cook and eat yummy food together?

I Dreamed a Dream

There exists a paradox that seems errant at best - when you reject the seemingly good things that come your way, and yet long for the bad that will undoubtedly serve no productive purpose. Isn't that just messed up?

I find myself in a constant state of immaturity. Sometimes it's a matter of realizing the error of my ways slightly after the fact, but on occasion, the thought does occur to me in the midst of the wrong. The test, though, is what I end up choosing to do. I feel like the kids I used to counsel. It's just too easy to live in the pleasure of today, even if tomorrow brings pain.

But I suppose that knowing is half the battle. So am I halfway there?

Angel

Have you ever felt used? I'm not sure used is the best word to describe the unequal, seemingly unfair sense of give and take I perceive, but to some degree, that's how I feel. It's relatively easy for me to have an attitude of indebtedness to those around me, probably because I am lucky to fraternize with generous friends. They not only share their material treasures (especially the edible sort), but they also parcel out their precious time and help to me. I could never do enough to repay their magnanimity. But it's the ones who seem to solicit my attention, company, and friendship when it's convenient to them who bewilder me. In ages past, they have earned my trust and love, so when they are in need or are simply in the mood to hang out, I'm there. But those occasions inevitably pass, and I am left by the wayside. Past, positive events beckon me to go back to them when those periods of silence vanish, only to wait for the cold shoulder to resurface.

Ultimately, I am motivated by my love for my friends, to love and love some more even if the affection is mitigated upon return. But I am...so tired of the straight line.