March 1, 2005

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  Wish I don’t have to see such times, either

  
  

   

  
  

  I think one of the happiest moments in my grandmother’s life was when my mom called home every couple weeks. And in the middle of their conversation, my mom would hand the phone over to one of my sisters or me, and as soon as Jia Poh heard our voice, you could just hear her face light up. With embarrassment and awkwardness, we’d smile sheepishly and make full use of all those years of Chinese school: “Ahhh…ahh…erm, hao. (psst! What’s she saying?)  Uh huh, um, shi? Dui-a! Okai.” 

  
  

  I guess it didn’t really matter to her that we couldn’t communicate, or that she’d always have the same things to say: Study hard, be good kids. Just knowing that we were on the other end of the line was enough to get her all excited.

  
  

   

  
  

  During Christmas break, my mom called to see how she was doing.  Half the time, Jia Poh couldn’t follow the conversation. Most the words out of her mouth were labored, incoherent. Sadly, guttural sounds can reveal neither happiness nor 75 years of wisdom.  Her stroke had stolen those things away from her.

  
  

  Most of my life, a lack of opportunity has sheltered me from interaction with the elderly. I have seen little of life’s winter season, little of those “days of trouble” that the Book of Ecclesiastes says will soon come. To me, “old” is a graying head and a workout session that maxes out at 20 pushups. 

  
  

  And so, hearing the slurred words on the speaker phone and knowing it was my grandmother was too much, too painful. I had to leave the room.

  
  

   

  
  

  “See, I come to make all things new!”

  
  

  My Savior says.

  
  

   

  
  

            Life has been ridiculously cool ever since I changed my major. The future is looking incredibly exciting, and not to be proud or anything, but I highly doubt those whom I’ll be blessed to spend that future with are going to live boring lives.

  
  

            Even so, it is personal stories like this that make me long for Home, that rouse up in me a desire to see that Day come soon. The Renewal of All Things: when everything is remade as it should be. As it was meant to be.

  
  

            And there won’t be stokes to debilitate the wise. Or deceived young men blowing themselves up in crowded street corners in Jerusalem. Or babies dying from AIDS. Or a broken social structure that forces people like Corrie to live on the streets, even though she wants more than anything to find a job—any job!—so much so that her desperation has her choking back tears. Or a system that leaves vets like Doc counting the $2.17 in his pocket and wondering how he’s going to feed himself and his poodle Goldie.

  
  

           

  
  

            “Isn’t there something more that we can do for them?” my friend asked on the way back.

  
  

            I’d like to think that there always is. 

  
  

            Lately, God has been challenging many of us: How much of your life has been spent living for yourself?

  
  

  That, I think, is perhaps part of the answer.  As Shawn alluded, our life is more than just about finishing school, finding nice job, nice wife, nice house, nice car, nice dog, nice life. I think we all know that. But I think most of us—myself included—haven’t lived it. When was the last time you have done something for someone who could never pay you back? When was the last time you have cried out to God on behalf of someone other than yourself or a friend?

  
  

            Time to step out of ourselves, ya? 

  
  

   

  
  

  “I wish none of this had happen.”

  
  

   

  
  

  “So do all who live to see such times,

  
  

  but that is not for them to decide.

  
  

  All we have to decide is what to do

  
  

  with the time that is given to us.”

  
  

   

  
  

  The Lord of the Rings

  
  

   

  
  

  * * * * * * *

  
  

  Our house already has at least one certified damn good cook. Looks like necessity is forcing another one to be in the kitchen more often. =P       (IV girls, in general, still starve.)
   
  Even so, we, the guys of 173, never promise that this won’t be used on somebody.  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  (Real picture from our food cupboard.)
   
  

  • 1:35 pm
  • 13 Comments