shadows and sunshine.

He’s sitting out on the deck. Today he’s wearing a black parka, despite the 60-degree weather and sun. The chair across from him is occupied by his only backpack. I’ve seen it loads of times–I duck behind the nearest person or tree at the mere sight of it. The usual pack of cigarettes and cup of coffee. Or second. Or third. He’s talking to himself; from an entirely different world, he drifts in and out of the system we commonly refer to as “normal.” Gesturing wildly to himself–or to an invisible person–his mouth is moving rapidly, as if discussing the latest woes of the American government. He was talking to himself when I first met him nearly two years ago, determined to tell him about Jesus, because he obviously needed to hear it; because he obviously had many shadows in his life that needed to be fixed.

His name is Louie.

I wonder what he likes to eat; I wonder who it is that inspires him to be the best he can be. I wonder where his boots have been, where he grew up, and when he had his last haircut. I wonder where home is, where he will be going this year for Thanksgiving, if he has a place to go at all. I wonder if he has health insurance (thank you, Sicko). I wonder if he has ever loved a woman. I wonder what gives him joy.

As I sit in my perch here at Brew Haha and observe my world, it hits me like an oncoming gasoline truck just how much I take for granted each and every day. There is nothing that I have in life that has not been given to me. Every dream, every skill, every memory, every friend; every miracle, every interest, every blessing, every conversation… every smile, every laugh, every lesson-learned-the-hard-way; every cup of coffee, every shooting star, every performance, every I love you; every piece of chocolate cake, every gift and every shoulder I’ve cried on. I am blessed. I have been fed and clothed all my life; I have tasted fullness and abundance in friendships. I have been loved and I have loved in return, I have received and I have been enabled to give back. I have learned perseverance through trial, blessings through curses, courage through fear, hope through despondency, joy through desperate loneliness, and grace through my failures. I am blessed.

You and I, we remember the bad days. Days when the skies are clouded with weariness and blah-dom, days when no-matter-how-hard-we-try still nothing goes right. The last few days have been like that… and there will surely be dreary days in the near future. But I look outside once more. The rays of sun shatter my internal world of thought and suddenly I’m lost in gratitude. Louie looks up at the sky too. I want to run outside and look up at the sky with Louie. But most of all, I want to tell him that the shadow only proves the sunshine; that there is hope everlasting and 10 zillion things that he and I can be thankful for this season. He glances back down and grins. Hmm, I wonder. Maybe he already knows.

My mind is swimming. But I put my thoughts away as company arrives… how nice of you to drop by and say hi. And I smile to myself as I silently say a thank-you to God for the wonderful friends He’s put in my life this year. Sunshine indeed.

thanks for giving, God.

101 things that make my heart glow…thank You God, for Your unbeatable thoughtfulness.

1. thick pencil lead 2. green post-its 3. spandex 4. crackling fires 5. outdoor running 6. the laughter of my dear friends 7. cooking with a wok 8. light sabers 9. snuggling 10. serving tea 11. being inspired 12. saying hi to people in public bathrooms 13. red gerbera daisies 14. cheese 15. spontaneous dancing 16. social justice 17. good massages 18. dim sum 19. city lights 20. the english vocabulary 21. how my mom puts her feet up whenever she sits down 22. understanding smiles 23. random compliments 24. figuring out pitches to everything 25. being a rebel 26. sitting on the roof 27. curly-headed roommates 28. anything in D minor 29. oil pastels 30. writing in skinny block letters 31. singing with my eyes closed 32. dreaming with my eyes open 33. unconventional coloring 34. reserving meaningful words 35. french vanilla 36. animals 37. reggaeton 38. pho 39. red dresses 40. Scrabble 41. baseball hats 42. stripes and collars 43. teenagers 44. blustery days 45. Proverbs 46. semicolons 47. walking 48. being intellectual 49. knowing that I’m needed 50. sketching people 51. baking from scratch 52. scheming up novels 53. snail mail 54. being reminded of who I am 55. thunderstorms 56. bravery 57. my brother’s violin playing 58. the American West 59. talented cellists (mama mia!) 60. loyal friends 61. my own name 62. driving 63. acoustic jamming 64. finishing sentences 65. chamomile and honey 66. breaking stereotypes 67. really epic movies 68. ancient history 69. discovering true intentions 70. honesty 71. kashi cereal 72. getting the best of two cultures 73. mountain summits 74. sunlight streaming into the kitchen 75. throwing random 7ths into whatever I play 76. being able to speak music 77. Mandarin 78. Billie, Ella, and Etta 79. seeing people be real 80. taking time out of the day to just be silent 81. pesto and bruschetta 82. true beauty 83. fearlessness 84. living for a reason 85. little black journals 86. musical family time 87. the people who love me just the way I am 88. warm laundry 89. having hope that never fails 90. being an American 91. fuji apples 92. healed scars 93. thoughtfulness 94. wearing guy’s clothes 95. whitewater rafting 96. picking out constellations 97. spreading peanut butter 98. sweet beddy-byes 99. Christmas 100. the ability to fall in love 101. my Redeemer, my only One

of course, there are many more to list… but it’s 1:12AM and after massive consumption of assorted foods, I am finally tired.

i bleed red too.

Autumn. It’s my personal favorite, actually. There’s something about seeing my breath in the air, being buttoned up, and clenching a warm mug of spice tea in my hands that makes it special. And then there are the pies (apple and pumpkin to be precise), the wafting aroma of snickerdoodles and baked goodness; hot chocolate and warm bread. Running is so much nicer in 50-degree weather, and the time spent with friends and family is more likely to be accompanied by a cheerful fire.

But the best part of autumn are the colors.

A friend once remarked to me, “Why do you like autumn so much? Everything is dying!!!” While that is true, that death is only temporary for our deciduous friends here in the Northeast. Or Southeast. Whatever you consider Delaware to be. Despite the short absence from their boughs, these leaves are spectacular. What an awesome display of color! (I am particularly fond of the red ones.) While my eyes soaked in the tangerines, vermilions, sun-yellows and faded greens of autumn on the way home from church, I began to think.

People are like autumn leaves. All of us: different colors, different roots; dying and living at the same time. If you haven’t been keeping up with the news or if you didn’t pay attention to that kid in your class who’s always on top of the latest University gossip, there’s been a lot of hoo-ha about ResLife and the diversity programs here at UD. It’s funny how life occurrences coincide from time to time–our entire InterVarsity Christian Fellowship just listened to a speaker talk to us about racism and how we all need to give grace–”gracism,” if you will, in order for a loving community to be built. Racism, grace, community, and love, I thought to myself. I’m uncomfortable already.

My good friend and fellow InterVarsity leader was the designated driver for church this morning. I turned to her and said, “I’ve been struggling with loneliness lately… it’s been so hard for me to identify with people in our fellowship. I’m realizing more and more now that I am the minority, that I am different, and when I’m aware of this, I can’t connect.”
She looked at me and asked, “is it because you are Asian that you’re feeling this way, or is the devil trying to tell you that you can’t connect and identify with your peers?”
After a brief silence I replied, “no… being Asian doesn’t justify my feelings of loneliness… I guess it’s just hard for me to feel like I belong.” In my mind, I thought why did I even bring this up? What do YOU know about being the odd one out? You’re not a minority! (note: here, this is Grace being racist.)
With a sigh, I elaborated. “For example… I hear about people getting together for a party-slash-get-together and I didn’t get the memo. I would love to go. I wonder sometimes, is it because I’m Asian and different that they didn’t ask me to come? Or, we’re hanging out, and everyone except for me starts laughing about something that’s awfully hilarious. And I wonder again, is it just a cultural thing? And then if it’s not because I’m Asian, then it’s because I’m too serious, or too deep-thinking, too introverted or just too different–I just feel like I don’t belong here, like there’s some exclusion principle in our own fellowship that I don’t understand! All I want is to know that it’s possible for someone out there to love me just the way I am!” I stopped suddenly. There were tears falling from my friend’s eyes.

And then, as if an invisible hand had slapped me in the face, I realized that what started out as a conversation about being unable to identify with others had undeniably turned into a conversation in which both of us could identify with one another.

“Grace, you are speaking thoughts that I’ve had for years and years,” she said to me. “I’ve gone so long being comfortable hiding behind the labels that everyone associates me with; I’m so scared of life after college because I seriously doubt if there are people in the fellowship who know the real me. I want to know too that it’s possible for someone out there to love me the way I am.”

My friend and I sat side by side in her car. Her light skin a seat over from my tan skin. Her last name so many more syllables than my last name. (Well, given that my last name is only one syllable…) We are different in so many ways–yet we have much in common. Though the leaves on one tree may differ in shape and size and most notably, color, they essentially have the same needs: light, water, nutrients. Who would have thought that humans were not so different?

If nothing else, every human being can find common ground in identifying with our need and desire to be loved. Factors like our personality, our life experiences, our values; our appearance, the labels we’re given, our race and culture; our IDENTITY–these only layer our most fundamental need of love. It is our fear of being alone, our doubts of whether or not we will be loved, and our hurts that prove that our desires are made of the same stuff. Jesus bled one color when He died on the cross so that we may have that kind of love from a God whose love will never run dry. It is because of this sacrifice that you and I bleed red too.

If we (InterVarsity and the rest of the world) are going to address color, we can’t begin by starting with our differences in color. We need to begin by identifying common ground in our shared needs as humans. We all need what we don’t deserve, and that’s what makes it a gift of grace when we love one another with the kind of love that Jesus had for us when He bled over our hurts. You and I… we’re much more alike than we think.

So that’s another reason why I love autumn so much. That, and the fact that the water is done boiling… finally, a cup of tea and a lovely weekend at its close. Goodnight.