EL’s Dribble

I always crave to hear about my parents’ history… how they ended up where they are at. And whenever I ask them questions like, “How did you get together?” or “Why did you make this decision?” it’s always followed by a very short and undescriptive response. Did they not want to share the foibles and failures it took to get to where they were? Were they just tired? Maybe it wasn’t the right time for a long story?

So whenever I get to hear the inner workings of how things came to be in my family, I get very intrigued. It happened more with my Mom as I grew older – she was willing to share her mistakes, her reasoning for things, the things she learned along the way. And I’m so grateful for that… so much of what she shared continues to pour life into me today.

But my Dad is a different story – not so much that he doesn’t want to share, but that he likes phrasing everything into a lesson. Which is good in some cases, but belaboring in others. And often we remember and learn the most when we’re able to peer into the heart and mind of the person who’s sharing, learn from where they went wrong or right and begin to live that out in our own lives. We just don’t learn as much from static propositional statements [note to preachers].

So Dad and I were talking and the topic was his decision to go into the food science – he studied at UC Davis at the urging of my grandfather to prepare to take over the family fishery business. It’s funny, but my life would be very different right now had my Dad been in the fish business and thus moved back to Taiwan. I would definitely be a Chien-Ming Wang fan for sure.

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I know that it was just Father’s Day, but I went through some old files and found an old post that I meant for Mother’s Day… so here goes:

It’s been a while since I’ve shed a tear for mom. But as cliché as it is, Mother’s Day still does it. And it’s a simple whisper to myself that I miss mom. That I miss her presence and her words of wisdom; she was the voice of reason for our family.

I thought recently of how the legacy of my mom lives strong in me. And that will automatically get passed on to my kids. There is so much of who she is that is alive in me. Her caring touch; her welcoming spirit. I’m not all like my mom, but she lives strongly in me. And I’m proud of that. And I’m proud that my kids will get to experience her in me.

I guess that’s really the picture of discipleship… and the picture of multiplication. I think about how mom never really got to see the fruits of her testimony, the impact her life has had on others. But we get to enjoy it and it gets passed to others. The others will never know who passed on the legacy to us… but they’ll get to experience it. And that’s the movement of God.

Mom, when I picture you, you’ve got this huge smile… the one that I always see first whenever I see you. You never fail to express in a multitude of ways that you’re just glad to see me and that you’re proud of me. Even that will do more for your grandkids than you’ll ever know. Thank you mom. I love you… Happy Mother’s Day mommy.

I was having lunch with a friend… eating well and having good conversation. And we slowly migrated to talking about God… and eventually to discussing what it means to really connect with God. And the question came up, “How do you really experience God’s love?”

I wasn’t all that sure how to respond. If there was a formula they didn’t teach us that in school. And my friend and I have been in the “church world” long enough to know all the pat answers [ie. more Bible and more prayer].

I thought back [quickly] to moments of very tangibly experiencing God’s love. Times where it felt unmistakably other-worldly. A mix of euphoria, liberation and embrace. Inebriated, but never losing yourself. Soaring in the clouds, but well grounded in reality. And you can’t help but to mutter to yourself… “Man, He loves me… He really loves me.”

And the only response I could think of was this… it seems like most experiences of God’s love are associated with some degree of surrender. The heart or will’s need to resign… to give in… to give up… to yield to whatever God is going to do – good or bad.

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It’s another Mother’s Day and I miss my mom. I still long to sit next to her and hear her voice. I still remember her sweet verbal elongations in my head and how reassuring her presence was in my life.

I ordered mom some flowers this year [for Dad to take to the gravesite]. I haven’t done that the past two years. But felt like I wanted to this time. I think in previous years, I’d just kinda ignore it. And then when the day comes, the flood of emotions would return. As if almost completely unprepared for it.

But I guess I’m grieving a little bit more this week… thinking about her throughout the week. Taking a long time to pick out the flowers online, wondering… “What would mom like?” I wish I had done that more when she was alive. Always the regret of the living.

People who’ve had parents/loved ones die say that you never get used to it. Yes, the pain isn’t as sharp… but do you get used to it? No. It’s true… I’m not used to it still. The hole is still there and will always be there.

As we go continue this process of trying to have children… I do look forward to the day when I’ll be able to hold my child, look into his/her eyes and give a little kiss for grandma. To know how much grandma would have loved this moment. How much grandma would have been so proud of her grandchild. How grandma is looking forward to the day when she’ll get to hold her beloved for real… sometime in the future. Hopefully not too soon… but she’ll be waiting and it’ll be an embrace like they’ll never experience. It’ll be like the ones I use to get while I was growing up.

Happy Mother’s Day Mom…