The week before I left Beijing, I had been craving eggs $ bacon. It wasn't a strong "go out of my way to find it" craving but it was definitely on my mind. That said...
For the last few months I have been wrestling with God over some things I disagree with and can't get my mind around. I feel like a child who is throwing a temper tantrum because his Dad said something he didn't like. I believe we go through times when its hard to digest all that is God and when it becomes too much we shut down. We turn off. This is probably the worst thing we can do but we all do it. Its easier to stop thinking sometimes than to think things through. But it's the struggles that we work through that make us who we are.
When we are not struggling we are not thinking and when we are not thinking, we are not living.
I knew this but somehow forgot it until last Sunday.
The Sunday before I left Beijing, a couple friends of mine wanted to go get coffee and invited me. We went to a place I had never been. I didn't think much of it until the menu came. Guess what was on it - Eggs & Bacon. It was like God said with a small voice "Here you go Mike. Its nothing special but I wanted you to know I was thinking about you. Hang in there."
Thanks for breakfast.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Friday, November 23, 2007
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Sunday, November 18, 2007
Names On Walls
This morning, I wrote the names of 3 children who have recently passed away on the wall of our home. I wasn't really close to these particular children and didnt even spend time with 2 of them. Either way, its a very odd and awkward thing to do.
Names on a wall. These children have become names on a wall.
I have had an overwhelming feeling the last 2 months that what I was doing wasn't really making a huge difference in anything. Sure, I spend time with the kids and we have fun. Sometimes I even teach them a thing or two. But, I was beginning to feel that when I left it wouldn't make a difference to the kids and that I would leave no lasting impression through my work here in China. And, to an extent, that is very true. You can't change the world in 3 months.
But today I realized that the way I have been looking at this whole thing is very selfish. I have been so worried about "my" work and what differences "I" can make that I have so easily forgotten that this is not about "my" work or what "I" can do. Its about them. Yes, when I leave the kids here will forget me and I highly doubt any of them will cry because I never walk into their playroom again. But thats not really important.
I have realized that what is important is that they are loved. That they feel comfortable and safe. That they smile. That they laugh. That they experience happiness and joy.
These things are important.
Not me.
Names on a wall. These children have become names on a wall.
I have had an overwhelming feeling the last 2 months that what I was doing wasn't really making a huge difference in anything. Sure, I spend time with the kids and we have fun. Sometimes I even teach them a thing or two. But, I was beginning to feel that when I left it wouldn't make a difference to the kids and that I would leave no lasting impression through my work here in China. And, to an extent, that is very true. You can't change the world in 3 months.
But today I realized that the way I have been looking at this whole thing is very selfish. I have been so worried about "my" work and what differences "I" can make that I have so easily forgotten that this is not about "my" work or what "I" can do. Its about them. Yes, when I leave the kids here will forget me and I highly doubt any of them will cry because I never walk into their playroom again. But thats not really important.
I have realized that what is important is that they are loved. That they feel comfortable and safe. That they smile. That they laugh. That they experience happiness and joy.
These things are important.
Not me.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Valleys
Wow. I have been in China for nearly 3 months now. It seems like I just arrived from Mongolia yesterday. My time here has been more than amazing. The friends I have made and the work I have been a part of have definitely been the highlight of my trip so far. I truly cant put into words the significance of what this organization (New Hope Foundation) is doing for these kids.
Now, after 3 months, I can walk into any playroom in our home(there are 3) and I will be tackled by little rugrats before I can shut the door. I no longer need to bribe the kids with candy and chocolate to play with me. If a child catches me walking down the hall they come running at me knowing I will soon administer my signiture "tickle torture" technique on them. The nannies hand over babies to me when they are crying and to my disbelief they actually stop crying when they are in my arms. And yes, I actually changed a diaper(emphasis on "a", but it still counts).
I feel at home in many ways.
But with all of this surrounding me, I feel as though my heart has left a mountain top and entered into a valley in a way. I have had a feeling of defeat for some time now. I cant explain why. I am surrounding by life and imagination here, but cannot capture it. Its as if the passion in my my heart has escaped me and I dont know how to get it back. I read somewhere, and have probably said this before, that "in order to get to the next mountain top, you have to go through a valley." I do believe this and acknowledge the upmost importance of the struggles of life, but that never really makes it much easier does it?
When I was in Peru, I did a 5-day trek that ended with watching the sunrise over the historic ruins of Machu Picchu. 5 days. It wasnt an Everst attempt but it was phyically trying. On the last day, we had the option of treking to the peak of Machu Picchu in the dark or taking a 15 minute bus. Me and my new friend Sergio decided we wouldnt feel right taking the bus and at 4:00am went on our merry way up the mountain. On a scale of 1-5, 1 being relatively easy and 5 being extremely strenuous, I would say the next 2 hours were about a 7. Seriously. I am not exagerating. But if we slowed down we would miss the sunrise and that, in our minds, would be a devistating thing. So we kept going. Sergio was more fit than me so I had to keep stopping to catch my breath but we eventually made it. And, luckily for us, before the sunrise. So we climbed up a couple more rocks and found a good seat to watch the sun come up over the mystical mountains of Peru. As the sun slowly crept up from behind the peaks, we looked at each other and in our eyes you could see that the trek that morning had made the sunrise even more beautiful to us. Sometimes, most the time, the climb is worth the view.
Im not sure how far I am into my climb out of this valley right now. Maybe an hour, maybe 2, maybe 15 minutes. Either way, I know that the sunrise at the top in going to be beauiful and I cant wait to see it.
Now, after 3 months, I can walk into any playroom in our home(there are 3) and I will be tackled by little rugrats before I can shut the door. I no longer need to bribe the kids with candy and chocolate to play with me. If a child catches me walking down the hall they come running at me knowing I will soon administer my signiture "tickle torture" technique on them. The nannies hand over babies to me when they are crying and to my disbelief they actually stop crying when they are in my arms. And yes, I actually changed a diaper(emphasis on "a", but it still counts).
I feel at home in many ways.
But with all of this surrounding me, I feel as though my heart has left a mountain top and entered into a valley in a way. I have had a feeling of defeat for some time now. I cant explain why. I am surrounding by life and imagination here, but cannot capture it. Its as if the passion in my my heart has escaped me and I dont know how to get it back. I read somewhere, and have probably said this before, that "in order to get to the next mountain top, you have to go through a valley." I do believe this and acknowledge the upmost importance of the struggles of life, but that never really makes it much easier does it?
When I was in Peru, I did a 5-day trek that ended with watching the sunrise over the historic ruins of Machu Picchu. 5 days. It wasnt an Everst attempt but it was phyically trying. On the last day, we had the option of treking to the peak of Machu Picchu in the dark or taking a 15 minute bus. Me and my new friend Sergio decided we wouldnt feel right taking the bus and at 4:00am went on our merry way up the mountain. On a scale of 1-5, 1 being relatively easy and 5 being extremely strenuous, I would say the next 2 hours were about a 7. Seriously. I am not exagerating. But if we slowed down we would miss the sunrise and that, in our minds, would be a devistating thing. So we kept going. Sergio was more fit than me so I had to keep stopping to catch my breath but we eventually made it. And, luckily for us, before the sunrise. So we climbed up a couple more rocks and found a good seat to watch the sun come up over the mystical mountains of Peru. As the sun slowly crept up from behind the peaks, we looked at each other and in our eyes you could see that the trek that morning had made the sunrise even more beautiful to us. Sometimes, most the time, the climb is worth the view.
Im not sure how far I am into my climb out of this valley right now. Maybe an hour, maybe 2, maybe 15 minutes. Either way, I know that the sunrise at the top in going to be beauiful and I cant wait to see it.
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