Not so Ordinary ten

In this busy season finding beauty in our ordinary moments has been my greatest obstacle.  Life is so full and when we're not working, in the drive through, doing homework, at soccer/tai kwon do/fill in the blank, washing bloody nose sheets at 3 am, writing papers for class, forever rushing out the door, I pull the covers over my head and whisper to Ben, "are we doing the right thing here?"  Am I the only one who thinks we should quit this life and become nepalese goat herders?  And he gives me a look of love and also of, honey you own all the crazy because you could not cut it as a farmer and we both know that.  So I shove it aside and set the cursed alarm for five one five.  

Let me tell you a little something I've learned about my m.o. this year.  I am the first one to want to cut and run.  It takes absolutely nothing to convince me that others have it better off.  I love so that I look good and feel good enough and don't feel like I owe anyone.  Believe me it's ugly stuff.  And that's not the worst part.  The worst part is that I know where contentment is found.  I know that if you break bread with someone who has nothing and then climb into your $200 duvet covered bed you won't go to sleep thinking about what you need.  I know that thankfulness precedes joy.  And still nine times out of ten I'll choose the opposite.  Because staying takes courage and letting Jesus into my pain makes me feel weak.  I crave the idea of loving others from the Love I've received but most of the time I'll settle for a genie.  So maybe the ordinary ten is anything but.  Maybe it is the extraordinary in my right now.  The only reminder that Jesus as beauty giver and not wants granter will bring joy right into the mess.

Spring beauty, cotton candy style

 catch a falling star and put it in your pocket never let it fade away

 rainbow looming for the 100th day of school

 watching mama and brother get baptized

 celebrating our white study at my 'office'

 Tia's short and sweet visit

 golden gate bridge sunset

 rounding up the sweetest almost kindergartener

 confetti parade

 happy place

"And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body.  And be thankful.  Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms, and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God.  And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him."  Colosssians 3:15-17

I will just keep on reminding myself.  Hoping that each moment I'll be brave enough to actually do it.

Ti Nai Nai

The two of us were only able to communicate in smiles and awkward laughs but it was always enough.  I knew we were kindred spirits the day she showed up for family pictures with tattered sweatpants under her "church dress."  And no words are necessary when smuggled contraband cookies are involved.  Her story spanned over ten decades and only grew in fascinating detail.  In March we celebrated her life and testimony down in the bay area.  It was beautiful to see how present all the grandkids were for the ceremony.  Dad was comforted by their words and affection the entire weekend.  This mama's heart was so happy.  And although we rejoice that she finally got her birthday wish to "go home to Jesus," we will all miss our Ti Nai Nai.  

Boda travels in style at PDX

The two youngest sillies

hot tub selfie

Brave Ammie in the hotel pool

These five and their bear/bunnies get a lot of looks wherever we go

Dinner on an 75 degree night overlooking the bay with a blazing sunset.  It was perfection.

Holding on to Yeh Yeh

Catching up with family at the reception.  Ian was quite taken with cousin Evan and his surfing videos.

Little man fixing his tie.  Love that boy.

Hiding at the park

So much joy

And finally Ben's perfect eulogy at the service.

Two weeks ago, shortly after 9pm, I received the phone call that my grandmother had passed.  This news opened up a few different emotions in me.  

First and foremost, Grandma Hsieh was well-loved and I knew that all who knew her would miss her dearly.  She was a vivacious centenarian, who still lived independently at her hippy retirement home in Berkeley.  Once while visiting, we made the mistake of taking her out to a Chevy’s Mexican Restaurant, where she felt the soup was too salty.  She had no qualms about sending her soup back two different times.  Another time when she was a bit older, the family attempted to get her some new shoes.  She proudly protested, announcing to the orthopedic shoe salesman, “Don’t you know I am going to die soon?!”  And recently, while on a trip to Pebble Beach, she hijacked my then 3-year old son’s doggy blanket for the weekend.  There she happily replaced her customary red hat and instead wore the fuzzy blanket’s two long, floppy ears.  She said it was comfortable.  But I suspect, that she just thought it looked good on her.  

Needless to say, there was a feeling of tremendous loss at not being able to spend more time with her. But at the same time, I also felt a second emotion.  And that was a profound feeling of happiness for her.  Hers, was a life well-lived, but I always knew that she looked forward to the next chapter.  While I knew the burial site with Grandpa Hsieh was not her true final resting place, I pictured them both there, smiling, looking out over the San Francisco Bay, and the Golden Gate Bridge, and beyond that the vast Pacific Ocean.  

I thought this was a very appropriate image for Grandma’s passing and it brought to mind a poem entitled “Crossing the Bar” by Tennyson.  [This poem has a lot of nautical imagery which is fitting since some of the members of our Hsieh clan fancy themselves as “sea people”.  I realize that some of you may find this confusing, since most of us still currently live in Illinois.]  Anyhow, in the poem, the “bar” the author refers to is the buildup of deposits of sand, such as those that form where a river meets the ocean.  And crossing over the sand bar can be a violent experience when the tide is low or very peaceful during high tide.  Grandma Hsieh’s passing seemed to be a little of both, but I take joy in knowing that she now rests in the immense, vast ocean of God’s peace.  Please allow me to read the poem:

         

Crossing the Bar

By Lord Alfred Tennyson

Sunset and evening star,

And one clear call for me!

And may there be no moaning of the bar,

When I put out to sea

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

Too full for sound and foam,

When that which drew from out the boundless deep

Turns again home.    

Twilight and evening bell,

And after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell,

When I embark;

For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place

The flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face to face

When I have crost the bar.

I am confident that when Grandma saw her Pilot, she was told “Job well done.”  And now she experiences a fulfillment and a peace that passeth all understanding.