help me to surrender my timeline
the sequence of my plans
the ideas of who my people need to be
when i am overcome by expectations and this ticking clock
can i trust in your miracles and your majesty
that your vision is brighter, greater, wider than what i can see
when i sink in my disappointment and fear
can you remind me that against your plans for me, i am exactly where i need to be
when i feel
oh help me to find power in that ability
to experience what it means to be human
with a god who will catch me even still
blogging
my prayer today
i feel vulnerable and naked when i talk about faith & god
like the utterance of god is immediately followed by a need to prove their existence
this pressure closes me up
does the opposite of what i hope
what if i cannot fail
what if risking is enough
what if pressure is an illusion
what i hope is that my presence mirrors the presence of god
that my steps and my words and my actions reflect a miracle of being
that was only possible by a love so grand and unexplainable
it transformed me into what i was made for
i continue to choose god
i lack proof
i lack evidence
i lack a satisfactory reason
yet this i know
god made me different
whole
open
hopeful
all things i felt were not a part of me when i felt apart from god
and so even when
these days i feel that my whole, my open, my hope
are fleeting and faint
and i stand a fraud
the risk is the still choosing
still believing
still expecting
i beg and i plea for god’s presence to wrap me again
god’s presence to stare right into my fears
to break my armor and my hold
to teach me once again the act of surrender and sacrifice
not from obligation but from a complete trust in abundance
to give is to believe i have enough, more than enough
to forgive is to believe i am you and you are me
to love is to believe it is the only way we will make it to tomorrow
Lent 2022: Surrendering Defenses & Debts
Today is the anniversary of the Atlanta spa shootings. Anniversary feels like a bizarre word to use for something horrific, but I’m mentally too exhausted to find a better suited word.
What does it look like to fast my armor and surrender my defenses today?
It looks like feeling my feet on the ground, and remembering the space I get to take.
It feels like forgiving myself when I’m not smiling even though it’s spring warm temperatures.
It feels like not being apologetic when I’m angry with rude people.
It looks like not smiling.
It feels like taking a chance at feeling joy today whether it’s from being grateful for the time to write or having the financial access to buy this too-expensive cold brew.
If feels like hoping that things will be better, even if the world throws lots of sad and bad at us.
It feels like trusting that there are good people in this world. There are many good people. I like to believe most people are good.
It means forgiving others when they forget the pain I’m in being an Asian woman in this world.
It means forgiving myself when I forget to love being an Asian woman in this world.
It means forgiveness.
It means taking deep belly breaths and being present, even if that feels extra full.
Lent 2022: Surrendering the need to punish
Nothing gets under my skin more than when evil and rudeness occur and perpetrators get away from it. From Putin’s ruthless egotistical war to Florida’s ridiculous laws against freedom of speech and sexuality to the men who never move aside and assume YOU need to move, I want to scream. I want heaps of coal to befall these evil doers. Underneath my demand for consequences is my lack of faith in God’s Justice and grace. I don’t fully believe God sees our hurt and our harm. I don’t fully believe that God has our back. I don’t even believe he fully forgives me when I’m the perpetrator of bad.
To believe in mercy is to believe in Justice
To hope for renewal and redemption and repentance is to hope for grace
To demand others be better is to demand for myself to be better. Can I trust that my grace and forgiveness and surrendering my need to retaliate will return to me, strength, love and greater clarity of the human condition?
Lent 2022: Under the Banner of Annoyance
I came home after a 16 mile run and I’m running behind to go to church service. The last thing I want to find is an occupied bathroom, and worst a roommate who takes his sweet time in it. I’m seething in my spirit, aching in my body, and positive he’s taking longer because he knows I need the restroom.
^^What do I gain by thinking that his bathroom usage was a personal affront to me? What do I gain by thinking that folks are not mindful? What do I gain by thinking the world is out to get me?
It gives me permission to be PISSED. It gives me permission to not be as kind as I should be. It gives me permission to armor up and fight the next person who looks at me wrong.
I am highly sensitive and I get irritated so easily. Because under my quickness to get annoyed is my grip on control — things need to be according to MY timeline, people need to act according to how I THINK, in my brain.
I wish I could say, now that I know, now that I’ve verbalized my flaw, I am ready to let go and surrender. Quite the opposite, now that I know, I feel myself doubling down on my need to control and my fear of surrender. I’m afraid that when I let go, I won’t be able to put the lid back on. I’m afraid that if I surrender my agenda, and the story that the world is against me, I’ll need to show up even more. When you show up more, you risk getting hurt more… but you also risk more joy and discovery.
I think I loved the pandemic emotions because I was allowed to be sad and scared without having to explain myself. I mean, look outside. But now that the pandemic is falling to the background and the world is opening up again, I see myself putting on the mask of happy and gratitude, when I’m just desperate to be sad and be disappointed. I believe you can be sad and disappointed without self-pity, and I want to be that, without having to explain myself, without having to first give a disclaimer of joy.
I love my sadness and fear because I’m sensitive and vulnerable and easily affected by the feels of the world. Now I want to be comfortable to exist in that without the gearing up to fend off people that want to fix me or make me feel better. I want to be confident enough in myself that how you see me isn’t as important as me living honestly.
Advent: Day 9
I emailed on Wednesday. No response. I followed up on Friday. No response. I gave them the weekend and this morning I sent another email, this time with extra vulnerable & heart sauce. Very soon after I got a response in the vein of, these things take time, we haven’t forgotten about you. My immediate reflexive response was, ugh my fault! Sorry!!
But no! One, why didn’t you respond with that to my first and second email? I just wanted to know that you heard me, that you saw my ask. Two, why did I feel like I did something wrong when I was the one with a very reasonable request? Pushing back, standing up for yourself, advocating for your needs feel uncomfortable in a body that has been comfortable with being walked all over. Three, maybe I could have started with the vulnerable and heart space from the beginning, rather than the business/professional tone people around me suggested I use? Where is the sweet spot of integrity, self-advocacy, self-worth and vulnerability? It requires giving the recipient the benefit of the doubt and a deep certainty in one’s own worth.
As I wait for this response or for god, or for my life is change, or for some magic or miracle to bloom, I have to remember that I am worthy to receive, worthy to want, worthy just as I am to have a life that is full. I also have to remember that god is good. God is not forgetful. God didn’t miss your email. God isn’t feeling awkward that you’re asking again and again and again. God is not dangling possibilities in front of us just to taunt us.
God can handle our push, our vulnerability, our belief that we are worthy. God needs us to be all that and do all that. Waiting is exhausting because it requires me to believe it can happen, it will happen, and god has NOT forgotten about me.
Where can you demand a response from God, even if it’s a not yet, or keep on, especially if it’s this?
Where do you need to advocate for yourself as a practice of self-worth?
Where can you sprinkle in vulnerability and heart in your professional and difficult relationships?
Advent: Day 8
To you who might be…
waiting and eager to make a move, and don’t know what to do
exhausted
excited for the new season and ready, really ready for the next season
joyful and full and want even more
on the edge of faith, a step from throwing in the towel or rediscovering god again
ready to let the wonder and joy take over even though you’ve lost the practice of it
scared and barely remembering to take a moment at a time
ready to own your strength, even if it means you’re the first person to do it
hopeful
ready
waiting —
Here is an album of love, of cheer, of affirmation, of encouragement, of togetherness.
Advent: Day 7
Just now I realized that I forgot to write yesterday. My stomach sank as I pulled out my phone to do this post on the train. My daily challenge to write every day during advent is imperfect and incomplete.
But who else is keeping track? Is there someone judging me? Yes, I wish I had written yesterday, but what does a hiccup afford me? A reminder to give myself grace. A reminder that imperfect and incomplete are fine, and if I want I can simply get back on task. A reminder that maybe imperfect and incomplete is the closest we will get to wholeness. It’s the attempt at it. It’s the working at it. It’s the laughing and crying I’m trying at it.
You can’t wait perfectly. Sometimes other things in life steer you off course or pull your focus. Those moments give us an opportunity to reevaluate — is the pivot worthwhile to pursue or is the original Hope still the main thing? Waiting is not stagnant. It’s not laying down to sleep hoping things will fall from the sky. It can allow for tasks and inspirations not originally thought of when you started the journey. Waiting can also have it’s sabbath. Maybe that’s what I allowed for myself yesterday.
Where can you forgive yourself for falling short, or where can you realize you actually have not fallen short, and simply have done your best?
Where can you be more imperfect and incomplete because that requires more faith and curiosity?
Be imperfect. Just start. Just continue. Meet you at the finish line.
Advent: Day 5
What if you’re waiting, and unsure of what exactly you’re waiting for? What if you’re waiting and hoping, with one foot in doubt? What if you’re waiting and praying, with a strong fog of insecurity and imposter?
I’m tired of the self-help, personal development and inner work that says its our disbelief and our own self-sabotage that are the biggest obstacles. I’m tired of the talk about how I’m staying small because I’m the one staying and thinking small. I’m tired of the work and worksheets and workshops that seek to strengthen me not because I don’t think there’s truth, but because it puts so much of the burden on me. I don’t want to put the blame or responsibility on someone else, and I also don’t want the heart of the onus to be on me.
I’m so dang fallible and fragile. Do I need to conjure up enough strength in order to get to the next chapter? I have too many years of trauma and generational chains to unlock. Do I have to wait for my healing to hit to get what’s been waiting for me? I’m not one to wait around for manna to fall from the sky. But I’m also tired of trying and prying and crawling and searching and digging and throwing darts and putting out more feelers and doing and doing and doing and doing. Where does my dependence on god and my personal responsibility meet? Where’s the line between trusting the divine is more powerful than any mistakes and messes I can make, and trusting that I have a part to play in my own journey?
I’m tired of job searching on Craigslist every other month, living hand to mouth, paycheck to paycheck. I’m tired of being held at the mercy of audition notices and avail asks. I’m tired of re-working and re-writing a project that I’m scared will never see the light of day, that I’m desperate for higher help. I’m tired of being single and “opening and re-opening” my heart & my energy & my vibe in hopes that folks will know I’m truly into partnership. I’m tired of suspension. I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of watching the world crumble around me due to covid, bad justice at the Supreme Court, climate change, gun violence, hurt people hurting people. I want to make this life count. I want to make this moment count. I want and need god to show me, even just a glimpse, what’s to come.
Advent: Day 4
There’s a kind of waiting that hurts me the most: seeing those I love in their times of waiting. I want to help and know there is really no way for me to help, but to make space. I want to fix and give them a kidney if it would help, but know that would only harm our relationship. I want to cover them with encouragement, even though they often seem to fall short. I hate seeing those I love, not there yet.
And I have to remind myself, there are so many victories and transformations privately happening that can only happen if I let go of control and let them ride this storm. I have to remind myself, I don’t see the full picture. I have to trust that they are much stronger than I know. I have to trust that god’s got them, and gods ways are bajillion times kinder, wiser, more magical than anything I could conjure up. These moments remind me that I am human and I am not alone in my waiting and they are not alone in their waiting. We wait alone, together.
So here’s to my beautiful life partners — you are doing it and I am cheering you on. You are in the thick of it and if you need a hand, I am here with what you need. I want everything for you while knowing not much of what exactly your heart craves. I am here with you. I am here with you in this valley. I pray for you incessantly, when I rise, when I bathe, when I walk, whenever you pop into my mind. I pray that I don’t get in the way of the magic that is about to come your way. I am sending you hugs and hopes and celebratory arms, because you alive, still going for your dream is full of victory. I’m here, waving at you, throwing my cheesy thumbs up. I know a thing or two about waiting, so hey. We wait together.
Are you there God? 