Seeing The Unseen

It’s Christmas season again.   My 10 th one since moving to China.   10 seems like a big number and has had me feeling thoughtful.   Thinking through all of the Christmases we have had in this place.   Realizing that all of those Christmas’s here signify so many Christmases that I haven’t spent “at home”.   Realizing that for my children, Christmas here IS Christmas “at home”.   The traditions that we have made as a family here are the ones that they will remember and hold onto in their hearts the same way I remember and hold onto the ones from my own childhood.   Our two experiences are very different but each special in their own way.   I don’t regret any of our Christmas’s spent here.   They have each been a beautiful celebration of the birth of our Savior.   Across the years we have shared them with some very wonderful people.   But the flip side of that same wonderful coin is the sad truth that I have missed an equal number o...

When we visit my parents in the summer, there is only one thing my mom asks from me; to play the piano.   She paid for 10 years of piano lessons for me and still gets great joy from listening to my somewhat rusty renditions of her favorite songs.   I don’t have a natural ear for music, but I do enjoy it, and Roma Schankweiler put great effort into teaching me to play from the old church hymnal.   I have no interest in playing classical music (although she tried to teach me that as well), or learning anything new.   But those old hymns are still a joy to play and they make my mother happy, and so I play for her whenever I come home.   As I paged through the hymnal and played through the songs I could remember, it was like opening an old treasure box full of memories.   One in particular stood out:   Be Still My Soul .   I often find myself with a noisy soul, struggling with the uncertainty of our future.   This song brought my heart b...

These are uncertain times for us.   More than one friend has mentioned to me that they can feel the power of darkness here.   It is palpable in a way it has not previously been.   Perhaps it has something to do with all of the extra security for the conference this coming week, but I am certain that is not all.   The “air” if you will, has changed.   The spirit of open curiosity that has persisted here for years, allowing us incredible opportunity, has soured.   It has been replaced by suspicion and distrust.   Not for everyone, but for many.   So in these troubling times, the temptation is to fear.   It would be easy to get stuck in the what-ifs, in speculation about the future, or just trapped by the spirit of fear itself.   But that is not a place that we are called to be.   And so in these weeks of intense security, whispered rumors, carefully chosen words, and prayerful decisions, I am choosing to search for hope. ...

This was a long winter. I think it has felt that way for many people. My hometown continued to get snow well into late March and even early April which is late and I know made for a long feeling winter for many people.  For me, the length of this winter was less about the weather and more about my heart. Plunging headlong into Christmas on the heals of Vangile's death and following the holiday celebrations up with her funeral, started this winter on a deep and somber note for me. Although as a Christian I was able to come to terms with her life and death for her, because I know her current joy, I have struggled long and hard with the plight of her family. Vangile's mother died just after her funeral.  This was no real surprise as she had been living in the valley of the shadow of death for many years.  How I ache for her father though.  Vangile's father both inspired and terrified me with the depth of his faith. I have never met another person like him. ...

Life is full of surprises and great ironies. Just when I think nothing else will surprise me, something comes along to make me laugh. I had one of these many moments this past month when Rob asked me to pinch hit for him by coaching girls basketball.  To understand the irony of this you would have to wind back the clocks with us to before Rob and I had ever spoken. All the way back to the 1990s when we were in Junior High. I grew up in a time and place where sports were everything (at least it felt that way at the time). While in Asia studying and GPA are all-encompassing, in America sports team participation seemed non-negotiable. So what was this awkward, shy, and woefully un-athletic 13 year old to do? Why join the girl's basketball team of course! If I didn't, I would have been left behind weekly as the sports teams regularly left School Early to travel for games and spent weekends at tournaments. To have any hope of  being cool and socially keeping up you had to b...