Joy in the Journey

TS Eliot

Tonight, i had the opportunity to be involved with a Theology and Literature event at our church. What a sight to see the church packed with 70 guests, of whom the majority were just people in the community--from the local area. The ambiance of the evening--jazz, canapes, and wine was amazing. The talk was inspiring. It's such a great feeling to see the walls of our church come down. 

It's just another reason why I love living here. I just can't see 70 people turning up in the community for not-so-well-publicized Theology and Literature event back in my California suburb on a Thursday evening. People kept the flier from early February about the event and just turned up.

The speaker did a great job of inspiring us to read the poetry of TS Eliot. I'm one of those that loves a good talk on poetry, but often find it frustrating to navigate on my own--without guidance...the speaker did a good job of making the poetry come alive and expounded very sensible interpretations of TS Eliots writings. I would've never been able to get so much out of the poems on my own. 

And from his talk, I realized that much of TS Eliot's self-awareness, his 'mind games with himself', his free-associating style of thought, his way of synthesizing those seemingly random thoughts and feelings, and the pictures he painted with words really resonated with me. Themes of forgiveness, the seemingly endless cycle of humility and pride, true spirituality, and distress over the world--are all themes that recur in my thoughts. 

Excerpts such as this one from "Ash Wednesday" are so fun to read, but resonate so much with many of the prayers i've been praying as of late.

Where shall the word be found, where will the word
Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence
Not on the sea or on the islands, not
On the mainland, in the desert or the rain land,
For those who walk in darkness
Both in the day time and in the night time
The right time and the right place are not here
No place of grace for those who avoid the face
No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and deny 
the voice

OK, I'm not exempt from homesickness...

An old friend wrote an email to me today. I met her, J, about 18 years ago in my Master’s of Education program where we enjoyed many hours together working on, what is now referred to as, eLearning projects. And, once again, I’m reminded that there are just some people in life that are what people refer to as ‘soulmates’—those friends with whom one can just be yourself with—and whom there is a mutual respect. And 10 years living apart from each other is like nothing when you connect again—even when miles away.

Recently I’ve had a hard time ‘summarizing’ my life in the last couple of months. It is definitely a reflection of my lack of discipline to reflect recently. I was in the mode of just getting through my list of things to do each day, wearing all the hats I wear each day as office manager, wife, and mom. I haven’t really even worn my friend ‘hat’ since I’ve been too mentally or physically tired or unmotivated to connect with people at the end of the day, and save up what I can muster so my husband and I can remain good friends.

In short, it’s felt much less like a ‘holiday’ recently—my first year here definitely felt like a year of vacation. Sure, it was hard playing single parent with J fully invested into his 1–year program, but I had free time as well, time to go on my run and explore london workouts, time for coffee/lunch with friends, time to phone up friends from the U.S. in the evenings, time to work on art projects like knitting, paper jewlery, sketching, photo organizing, etc. But, ever since the new term in September, the office demands have been great. We spent 6 weeks preparing for the largest service we have all year—our Carols by Candlelight service and because I’m not going out of town, I need to help hold up the fort alongside or Rector/pastor during our 3 services in 4 days.

I also realized, as I was responding to a friend to the ‘how are you doing?’ question. Here’s an excerpt from the response I sent that best reflects how I am doing:

“I'm rarely the type to get homesick because I love to explore and be in new environments and take it all in, but this is the first time I've made a more semi-permanent…home away from home and THAT fact combined with the dreary, short days and long, damp, winter nights was overwhelming me just last week to the point of tears--AND I'm [not even] hormonally challenged at the moment!

But,  [this Christmas holiday has ended up] better than [I] expected--I'm reminded that we have got friends here that care about us and that we enjoy being with..nothing that can replace those time-tested, long-term friendships as those I have from California, but nevertheless, we feel we 'belong.' It's funny, I don't have many family traditions over Christmas--having come from Chinese immigrant parents, they didn't pass down many memorable Christmases, but it's the New Year's that really difficult for me because in the past 10 years or so, we've always hung out with other families with children about the same age at the home of someone who could host us all and just ate, chat, laughed and hung out. And last year, though it was nice to be invited to a New Year's party with Jack's classmates from his business program, it just wasn't the same--it's hard to do small talk between 11pm-1:30am with new acquaintances…”

 I just don’t feel like talking about my past jobs, where I was born, and why we are in london in those wee hours of the night—

Last Sunday, I felt a deep urge to attend our 6pm Sunday evening service. Instead of the regular format—praise, prayers, sermon, praise and close, it was a more relaxed atmosphere for lots of singing and prayer and quiet. And, it’s just what I needed…to re-focus, to be quiet, to re-connect to the One who made me, guides me, empowers me, and gives me joy. I went in, sat on one of the bean bags in the chair-less sanctuary and just teared up. Soon, many friends would be travelling, off having fun and we would be ‘stuck’ here in a very quiet city. Meanwhile, a week-long vacation without any reunions with old friends just seemed so lifeless. But as we sang and praised God for His sovereignty, power, and grace—all characteristics I have experienced in our lives in the past year—and were led to pray for others in need and others who need hope, I began to draw my attention away from my hurts and become re-energized to be an instrument of God to serve and bring hope to others.

And, this past couple of days, Christmas Eve, Christmas, and today, Boxing Day, have been non-stop with our local friends that stayed behind. And the meals and conversations shared were sweet and rich. We could be ourselves. We did have fun. We do feel loved and feel that we belong. And with all the horror stories of friends stuck on trains, on the road, and in airports, staying home wasn’t so bad after all. The experience this morning of an otherwise hustling, bustling train station this morning brought was a welcome sight. The 50% off every item in the Next store Boxing Day sale was most productive—and O and I managed to have our, what seems to be developing as, annual shopping/bonding morning. Playing football with another family in the muddy field of Bloomsbury Square was invigorating.

And receiving a few responses from friends and family to whom we sent an eCard to reminded me that I haven’t lossed everything thanks to email and the new age of the Internet and the ways we can still virtually connect/reunite.

Dark, Cold, Wet

I don’t know if it’s because life has become a list of to-do’s moments of coffee with friends here and there or whether it’s just this horrid, dreary weather. Today, i found myself missing the city lights from the evening skyline we used to enjoy at our last flat. Though I love the quiet and quaint road we now live on, I DO miss that sense of escape from a dreary day high up on our penthouse-like flat at A street.

I’m not quite out of that dreariness I feel during these months of short days and long nights. The wetness and rain doesn’t phase me quite as much as the darkness and the cold—though I know it’s mild compared to so many other cities in Europe and the U.S.

Tonight, however, I found one comfort we enjoy on cold Autumn and winter nights in London—warm, mulled wine and mince pies enjoyed by candlelight in our lounge after the kids have gone down. Mmmmm… And with that, I have hope that this too shall pass…

Photojournal of Sept-Oct

SEPTEMBER

Staff Weekday Away in September for training, team-building, worship, vision-sharing, and prayer:

 

OCTOBER

O's 10th Birthday Tea Party

 

The Big Move

 

Settling in...

 

L's latest love:

 

 

Filming of "Law and Order in the U.K." in front of our church:

 

Kids and J out with Uncle A and Auntie S to Westonbirt Natural Arboretum in Glouestershire (pronounced "gloss-tuh-shy-yah") at the beginning of this last week's half-term holiday:

 

When Dreams Come True

Many years ago, J and I dreamed about partnering together to come alongside university students as they journey through their faith and their lives—and tonight, during a prayer time with the 5 young ladies in my bedroom. this was the second time they met in our home—it hit me…God fulfilled that vision that began so many years ago—Now I know why we had to move…Though the circumstances were, in no way, good—God transformed into something good—no, something amazing, actually.

Life for Rent

This is our 3rd flat in London within the short period of 13 months we’ve lived here. I have the luxury of never needing to rent in my life—I don’t really count my student residence in university a rental. After two tiring weekends of planning, purchasing, and assembling, we feel more settled now that we have wardrobes to hang our clothes in, desks to study/write on, sofas to entertain guests, and places to stack our 8 large suitcases.

It’s nice to no longer have to live life out of a suitcase and cardboard boxes. There’s ample cupboard space in the kitchen and the bathroom. It’s quieter here—only the sound of church bells every 15 minutes. The neighbors in the block of flats actually smile when you catch their eye. It’s ultra-convenient in terms of distance to shops, night-life, the tube/bus stations, school/church, and even the hospital.

But living in a house as a tenant is different. The obvious difference is that one doesn’t OWN the house she is living in. So, I hear myself saying to the kids a lot, “Careful not to scratch the floor” and “Don’t sit on the cupboard door handles” and “This is NOT our place—let’s take care of our landlord’s place.” The only thing I need to get used to is the lack of light in this place—something I dread even more as the days are getting noticeably shorter.

I’ve noticed that I’m adopting a mindset that I have never really, truly understood and adopted before—being a tenant, a ‘renter’, has given me a new perspective about my life in general—that I live this life much like a tenant lives—like a traveller lives—I own little, but am grateful for all that I have. All my material possessions, experiences, and even my human relationships, are ‘borrowed’ and do not belong to me and yet, they exist to change/challenge me, to be enjoyed by me and with others, and to help me and others know/love God better. And just as we experienced recently, a time will come when the Landlord will need for us to move out and move on. And though, we can never prepare for the shock of that, I just need to make sure that I have all life’s essentials with me when I need to pack up and go. And in real life, at least, when it’s our time to leave this earthly life, it wouldn’t be so much that God is needing to ‘kick us out’, but it would be an invitation to move in and live with Him in His eternal home.

Recovery Mode

It’s been 4 days since the big move. Since then, J’s come home and it’s been another whirlwind of tasks trying to settle in. Sure, we want to ‘take it slow’ but you really can’t keep eating out every meal. So last night, though tired, we both emptied out most of the kitchen boxes. thank God for all the cupboard space in the kitchen and bathrooms—it makes up for the lack of wardrobes for the time being. J had the crazy idea of making an IKEA run after picking up the kids from school on Wed afternoon. And crazy it was…an IKEA trip usually takes about 4 to 4.5 hours total including the 30 minute train trip up there and the 10 minute IKEA shuttle. Thank God we caught the shuttle right before it left for IKEA when we had arrived at Stonebridge Park station. The big treat, as always, was the £1.50 10–swedish meatball deal (only on Weds!) and so we ate for 11£—the whole family—no sharing! L got to play in the play area, O helped us shop, and we were very productive—ordered/bought a sofa set, 5 wardrobes, a small desk, 2 bookshelves, and a desk chair—thanks to a generous gift from J’s parents, this was even possible!

So, we await the wardrobes so we can rid ourselves of a housefull of boxes and suitcases. Meanwhile, a small Birthday tea party for O set for tomorrow afternoon. J thinks I’m over-ambitious and should’ve cancelled the party, but, really, it’s like the last one we did was quite some time ago—I think when she turned 4–-pretty soon, she won’t care for Mommy to throw her one…so it’s the least we can do on her big 1–0…plus, it’s just 5 guests—small, short, and sweet and I’m no Martha Stewart : )

Four in Fourteen

Within the short duration of fourteen months, I’ve moved house FOUR times:

The first of which, was the most painful simply because we were clearing out of our 1400 sq foot home not including the extra large 2–car garage.

The second move was equally painful simply because we were moving to another continent to an place we were completely unfamiliar with.

The third, was actually not too bad because were pretty lean on the ‘stuff’ but J was in the thick of things during his 1–year business program which rendered me pretty much alone at the homefront.

This last move (today) was painful in many aspects. Physically taxing because I have full-time job and have little or no down time to scour the city for free boxes no find the time to pack during the weekday. It was emotionally draining because we were not planning to move nor did we want to move. I was quite happy in our former flat and despite all the stairs we had to climb and despite all the noise of trains, cars, and students at the local residence hall, it was my “escape from the dreary London gray skies” pad. All the sunlight and privacy we had living on the top floor of a flat lined with windows—is probably the best survival strategy for those dark months. Secondly, J had a trip planned to Brazil weeks before our landlord notified us he was selling the flat and we had to move. So, the weekend before he left, after packing all the books from the bookcase and all of his clothes/shoes, he was in holiday mode didn’t want to worry about it anymore. So, having to work full-time, care for the kids, AND coordinate the move was…so intensely stressful, I broke down in tears probably about 3 times in the last week. The physical/emotional drain drove me to senseless anxieties about living in a less-well-lit flat, moving to a flat with little/no storage space, how to find affordable boxes, what to do with the unfurnished nature of the flat, etc.

Needless to say, I’ve gotten packing/moving/unpacking down to a science. On the other hand, I find the whole process quite unsatisfying. Last night (this morning), I was up at 5:30am still ripping ‘cellotape’ to assemble boxes and carefully labelling each box with and idea of its contents and the room it need to end up in. This afternoon, just 7 hours after all of that effort, I’m looking for a knife to slice through all the tape to release all of the contents in the box once again. The satisfying part, if there is any, is moving to a new place and creating a new space and finding a new place for everything.

As soon as all our material possessions had arrived at the new flat, I quickly distributed all of the boxes to the proper room and set out to assemble my bed so I could have a much needed nap  before collecting the children from school.

And, my take-away from this whole ordeal—okay, maybe not ‘ordeal-worthy’—but it’s the love and support from my community of friends here. Wow. I’d like to thank:

JG who transported a good number of boxes from work for me

SF who offered to watch L all of Saturday, including serving him lunch and supper and packing me a ‘takeaway’ version of that supperTHEN offering to hang out with me the morning of the move to help with whatever (she ended up having to nurse her ill son, but hey, it was a beautiful gesture)

The P’s who offered to have O over late afternoon through to the evening after supper on Saturday while L was at J’s house.

S offering to bring me more boxes. S texting me yesterday afternoon with kind supportive words as well.

J and C who so kindly offered to watch L and O late Sunday afternoon and early evening. The both of them sending lovely encouraging messages of cheer during the ours of the move.

IH who after a crazy morning with a bunch of kids invested a good 3 hours to meticulously wrap each of my mugs, glasses, plates, and cups with the unwanted BT Vision yellow pages books. I alwasy fear the kitchen-packing department. The care which one needs to take with each of the cookery sets, the time it takes to clear/sort food products. The odd/large sizes of cooking pots, pans, microwaves, food processors, etc. I sending me a text of encouragement and support during this morning’s move.

KH who came for at least 1 hr to help with more packing and working with I to help me disassemble my sofa bed (now main bed)

J who left me a bottle of Chilean wine to enjoy on Monday night after the move. J who offered to go collect the kids from school today—we ended up celebrating her 10th birthday at a nearby cafe with a little cupcake/candle and juice. J brought the candle, the happy birthday banner, cocktail umbrellas and all! O felt really special—and it made up for my lack of ‘hoopla’ on her birthday since i was so incredibly busy.

C who offered to take my children to school this morning so I could finish off last-minute things and wait for the the moving crew to come.

And last but not least, D and his mates who did the actual moving of boxes, suitcases, and things up and down our 4 steep, flights of stairs. Since D was suffering from a bad cough/cold, I even stepped into to help with the lighter things. Two van loads later, I was seeing them off and heading to my room to assemble my napping bed.

Kids were thrilled about sleeping in the new flat tonight, despite the fact that they are living in box-land at the moment. And, I’m going to begin my ‘settling in’ project now that we’re here—but that’ll have to wait until AFTER O’s birthday celebration next weekend…

 

Day 1 of Packing

My Day In bullets points:

-couldn’t have done it without friends

-started off the day with freshly baked blueberry muffins and coffee and conversation with S after dropping off L with her husband so he and J could take off for the Saturday Bible club; L had fun with J all day; will miss living close to them; he was walked home after supper

-O had fun with the P family in the late afternoon through to the evening; L and I picked her up after supper and after an episode of X Factor

-after a hearty Pub lunch, IH spent a good 3.5 hours helping me meticulously pack dishes, cups, glasses, cutlery; she also helped me dismantly our dining table, desk, and our sofa bed

-K joined her at the end to help with more kitchen things…

-packing was more fun with clean-up music courtesy of Coldplay, Royksopp, Duran Duran, Frou Frou, Ingrid Michaelson, and The Corrs

-still can’t believe that the last time i had to pack J was busy studying and this time he’s out of the country!

-though productive, still a bit overwhelmed as boxes and un-sorted things still strewn everywhere leaving very little floor space to walk around

-realllly tirrred

-beginning to look forward to the move. landlord seems really detailed, responsive, yet thoughtful—what a blessing

My Day in photos:

  

 

Community

Recently, I’ve come out of my state of denial and have really longed for my long-time friends from ca. I thought wrongly that with internet, facebk, and skype that we could easily keep in touch. But with the time difference and our hurried lives with younger children—I can no longer hope for the ‘journey through life together’ moments…those conversations about seemingly trivial occurrences in our day like what made us upset, what brought joy, what gave us hope…sharing those sweet and cute and rotten moments with our kids…watching our kids play together, fight together. Chat over coffee or wonton noodle soup at HK Cafe. I miss the “I just need to talk to someone” moments that are just a phone call away.

In one year, sure, I’ve made friends and today I realized that they are really special. The P family invited me and the kids to their residence hall for a cheap, hot meal for their residence hall dine-in night and offered to watch the kids while I pack on Saturday with the two young ladies who offered to help me pack all afternoon. CL is happy to take my kids to school on the move day next Monday. MW let me borrow her teaset for O’s bday tea party. JG offered to bring me boxes for the move. SF offered to hang out with me on the day of the move. So, it’s worked out—this new community. But as for ‘soulmates’—though I’ve found a couple…one moved away and I still haven’t found a girlfriend with whom I can not only have fun with, but with whom I can find spiritual refreshment and support as I journey this most challenging life. So, as much as I love living in this lovely city, the longing for the comfort of old friends remains.