Seeing The Unseen

I enjoy January.   December flies by in a flurry of busy activity all leading up to the celebration of Christmas.   It is wonderful with its warmth, tradition, expressions of love, and the focus on the gift we have received in Christ.   But it is also exhausting.   While my children mourned the day that I took down the Christmas tree and tucked the decorations all back into their boxes, I sighed with some relief.   It’s nice to start fresh. Putting away the decorations allows the chance to clean and re-decorate my house in a way that I hope makes my little family feel at home.     January brings the beginning of a new calendar year, which we traditionally associate with New Year resolutions.   That’s not so bad.   I really associate it with recovery: recovery from the busyness of the holidays and the chance to refocus a bit.   Typically speaking January also brings its fair share of sickness.   If you live in the northern hemis...

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. ...