When I last shared here, Josh and my oldest son were about to leave for their month long trip to the States and I was facing the deadline to the final thesis for my M.A. I signed off of this space for those weeks, hoping to be back when all that November held had been completed.
Now here we are. What a month it has been. And I am grateful we made it through and for all that was accomplished. There are more things to share about that in the coming weeks. For now, as we say goodbye to autumn and head into December and the Advent, I want to share a few reflections from the current season.
Determining God’s calling on your life is both easy and hard. I have a natural propensity to want that sense of purpose, especially if I am going through difficult things. If I have an assurance that God has directed us to a place or a work, it makes all the difference. But I also have a propensity to unravel this all the time. I don’t want to sell myself something that isn’t real or true, or cling to something that is from my own made up desires. Thanks be to God that he sees the mess I can be about this. So the easy part is coming back to the fact that the Spirit of God desires to lead us as we follow him. The hard part is unraveling all the junk I pile on top of that. J.I. Packer writes in his book on calling, “God normally calls us along the line of our giftedness, but the purpose of giftedness is stewardship and service, not selfishness.” He share these three simple principles from John Cotton (circa. 1633) when we are faced with a decision about a particular work.
Is this something wherein we may not only aim at our own, but at the public good?
Are we gifted for the job?
Are we guided toward it by God?
I am particularly drawn to the emphasis on our gifts and talents being for the sake of the good of others, not just ourselves. It’s a guiding principle as we look at our work, the way we spend our days, and even informs the conversations we are having around university choices and vocations.
Soup requires no recipe, but is best when cream and bacon are included. We eat a lot of soup as the weather grows colder. I’ve made so many over the years that recipes are no longer needed, but even when I make them up out of what is on hand, the ones that receive the best reviews (no surprise here) usually have a creamy base and either bacon or sausage in the starring role. I shared a recipe of one I made earlier this month on my Instagram stories and several people said they tried it and loved it. I’m relieved that the ingredients I use here in China translated to what is available in other places. And only confirms that soup is so transferrable. You could substitute every ingredient here for something else and it would still be awesome. Except keep the cream, and the bacon.
To be a parent is to be both hard and soft. This month, I was sort of on my own, even though Josh and I were able to communicate of course. There were still a lot of days where we weren’t able to connect, and I had to make decisions and walk through things with the kids by myself. I am a feeler. I feel all their feelings, and am very attuned to the way they are experiencing the world. This can be good, but also not. When there are character issues to be addressed and pressed into, and they push back— I find it hard to believe that they will ever recover. But guess what? They do. And when I do not let the feelings rule (though they are a guide, and not be dismissed!), but push into the realm of being firm and then praying A LOT, I have seen fruit. This is not a formula. Just something I have to practice.
Staying up late is required. In this season of life, I am ready to be done with the day at 9:00 pm, if not earlier. I like to get up early, before everyone else is awake, which means that after putting the precious little ones to bed (all thanks be to God) I just want to sink into my own. But if I want to talk to my older kids, I have to be around when they are around. For one of my kids in particular, the words come out when there aren’t as many others taking up the space or filling the air with their voices. On the nights when I opt to stay up, to sit with them as they finish their homework, we have talks that I could not plan or draw out of them in any other way. They say those years of nursing your babies through the night are the most physically demanding. This might be a close second. But worth it
.Jane Eyre is a treasure. The books I read this month were mostly old classics I haven’t read in years. A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanaucken, which was a much more compelling exploration of his intellectual struggle with faith then I remember it being. The last time I read it (probably in college) I just remember rolling my eyes and thinking, “these two are on another level of romantic.” But they were also on another level of working through the deepest questions of life.
I also picked up Jane Eyre again, which I first read on a camping trip when I was 16, and have loved ever since. This time, I found myself especially drawn to her inner battle of character— determining when and how her freedom of self should play out. With Mr. Rochester, in what should rule: her passion or her deep sense of integrity? With the austere St. John, what would be lost if she obeyed duty over desire?
And how can we not cheer for a story where the guy picks the girl with brains and character over the super model?
COVID is relative. Some people think it’s over. Some people can’t think of anything else. This month has been hard as far as Covid goes. Our school had been back on campus for about a month, and then just last week the cases all went crazy again and they shut the schools down. It is hard to listen to Americans talk about 2020 as if that was the year of COVID, and all that they suffered or learned from it, when it rules so much of our lives still over here. But of course we understand it. The rest of the world has (rightly) moved on. It’s just so sad and discouraging that China has not, and that it continues to affect the well-being of every life here. And while we have grown resigned to it in some ways, in other ways it is so maddening.
I see people share a lot of opinions and quasi-articles, especially about the current protests. And it’s hard to say much on our end, since it’s not really our place to report on the situation. But I will say that the Economist (specifically the podcasts: The Bell Tower and The Prince) is doing good work in regards to China reporting, and is very accurate to what we see and understand on this end.
The World Cup is hard to beat. I have grown to love soccer (I know, I know… it’s football everywhere else) over the years. I would rather watch a Premier League game than the NBA or NFL any day of the week. I love going to my kids games, when we’re lucky enough to have one. And the World Cup is my favorite. Because of the time change, all the games are in the evening or middle of the night for us. We have to wake up at 3 am to watch the USA play. But it’s also the best. Friends come over and we root for Japan, or Australia, or Cameroon— depending on who we know from those countries. The high schoolers gather, an entire room of Koreans, and watch the unbelievable happen. And in the morning, I pick up their leftover shrimp chips and orange peels, and smile.
Technology will be the end of me. VPN’s (crucial to doing anything on the internet here) that won’t work. Education platforms that won’t work. Zoom calls that won’t work. Computers that won’t work. Phones that won’t work. Lord, teach me to be grateful for these machines that are supposed to make our lives better but definitely make my attitude worse.
We thought we were too old to rely on our parents, but we were wrong. When Josh landed in the US, his updated license was not in hand so he could not get the rental car he needed. Our credit cards had also expired and the new ones were in the mail. All that to say that he had to call his parents (who were thankfully already on their way to meet him from a few hours away) to pick him up at the airport, and he had to borrow cash to pay for several things before his finances got sorted. It was a sweet and funny realization, that at 45 we are still calling our parents for rides and money.
Holidays are important, and they are not everything. I’ve alluded to this before in another letter where I talked about letting go of my attachment to autumn, and that it felt a little like growing up. There is a similar strain I am finding when it comes to holiday celebrations. Over the years, as we have lived overseas and found it hard to maintain many of the traditions I was used to growing up, I have had to adapt to a lower expectation surrounding these special days. The tension is in the fact that celebration and tradition and the setting aside of these days for particular reasons is actually important. When I bought candles for our advent wreath this year, my son said, “isn’t that a waste of money— all those candles just for advent?” And I emphatically said, no. It’s not a waste. Sometimes beauty and reverence, and making something special is very much worth our time and money. But what I have perhaps learned in some small measure, as most of the trappings and supports for these traditions have been stripped away these past years, is that the heart of what we are after can be just as beautifully revealed and celebrated, sometimes even more so, without the right meals, or the people, or the church, or the weather.
And so, November with its decisions and separations and difficulties and sweet provisions is behind us. Advent has begun, and I welcome its dark mornings and early evenings and the days to reflect with renewed anticipation on our deep need for God to make all things new. I’ll be back here with more on all of that in the coming weeks.
Until then, may you find His slow and certain Light in these dark days.