Monday, September 18, 2006
STONES
Sadly, I think I’ve lost some friends who had been turned into stones. Can’t you believe it? I found it hard to believe but that is so true. Stones don’t respond. Stones don’t communicate. Stones don’t react. Stones are hard. Hard to understand. I wish I could make them talk, but I’m just a human. I ain’t water which (as it is said) could go through them with many persistent drops. My patience is running out. I'm afraid I have been turned into one too.
PATRICIA'S PAT
I suddenly think about the language of love we discussed on our last team-building session about a month ago. I found it hard to choose which one (out of five: physical touch, act of service, quality time, words of appreciation, and gift-giving) I liked the best. It is known that words of appreciation is big in American culture, but least favorite among Asian people. I think it’s true, but I still like it (maybe ‘need’ is a better word), because I found it helpful to boost my self confidence which most of the time tends to be inadequate.
A week ago I was asked to help interpret in my org family gathering trip, hence I had to overcome one of my biggest fears, i.e. public speaking. They even set up a stage, quite far away from the tent where the seats were put and people gathered. Talking like an MC is not my stuff, let alone in English, my third language. But I was gladly surprised that I didn’t shake nor tremble. However, my nervousness came in a different shape, i.e. less concentration (at least I think I have a better memory than that day). I had no preparation too, since I had no idea of what they would talk about. Anyway, I tried my best, but it did not measure up to my standards. I forgot lots of stuff and had to ask the speakers to repeat what they’d said.
And I thought what a failure it was, my interpreting job. Until afterwards, came an elderly lady. Her name is Patricia. She works in the kitchen, cleaning and serving people in the office who need tea or coffee. She shook my hand and patted my shoulder saying, “Thank you very much for translating. The devotional message was really great and thanks to you I could understand it.” And I was too stunned to even say ‘you’re very welcome’. Had she said something like, “Good job, you’re so smart, or your English is awesome,” it probably would not have affected me that much. But knowing that what I did was useful and bless others is even far more pleasant than hearing how smart or great I sound. And I’m glad that I had an opportunity to know that at least one person could benefit from the mediocre performance I gave.
The theme of the trip was ‘many hands one heart’, and among all those different roles played with so many hands, there was also Patricia’s patting hand, and I had a privilege to enjoy that.
A week ago I was asked to help interpret in my org family gathering trip, hence I had to overcome one of my biggest fears, i.e. public speaking. They even set up a stage, quite far away from the tent where the seats were put and people gathered. Talking like an MC is not my stuff, let alone in English, my third language. But I was gladly surprised that I didn’t shake nor tremble. However, my nervousness came in a different shape, i.e. less concentration (at least I think I have a better memory than that day). I had no preparation too, since I had no idea of what they would talk about. Anyway, I tried my best, but it did not measure up to my standards. I forgot lots of stuff and had to ask the speakers to repeat what they’d said.
And I thought what a failure it was, my interpreting job. Until afterwards, came an elderly lady. Her name is Patricia. She works in the kitchen, cleaning and serving people in the office who need tea or coffee. She shook my hand and patted my shoulder saying, “Thank you very much for translating. The devotional message was really great and thanks to you I could understand it.” And I was too stunned to even say ‘you’re very welcome’. Had she said something like, “Good job, you’re so smart, or your English is awesome,” it probably would not have affected me that much. But knowing that what I did was useful and bless others is even far more pleasant than hearing how smart or great I sound. And I’m glad that I had an opportunity to know that at least one person could benefit from the mediocre performance I gave.
The theme of the trip was ‘many hands one heart’, and among all those different roles played with so many hands, there was also Patricia’s patting hand, and I had a privilege to enjoy that.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
INVISIBLE ENEMIES
How can you fight or avoid something that you can’t even see, hence you don’t know what it is, and you can only feel it once it’s too late, because it has attacked you first?
Well, no…not talking bout the evil spirit or any spiritual warfare here, but I am talking about….pollen. Yeah, every morning when I wake up I ask God for a little less…snot. No kidding. I am tired of feeling alarmed of what I’m gonna feel today, whether I once again will suffer from this obnoxious rhinitis, and my beautiful day will be ruined because I can’t even breathe the air with my clogged nose.
Oh Lord, I hope this day is good.
Well, no…not talking bout the evil spirit or any spiritual warfare here, but I am talking about….pollen. Yeah, every morning when I wake up I ask God for a little less…snot. No kidding. I am tired of feeling alarmed of what I’m gonna feel today, whether I once again will suffer from this obnoxious rhinitis, and my beautiful day will be ruined because I can’t even breathe the air with my clogged nose.
Oh Lord, I hope this day is good.
A SHORT NOTE FOR JV
(A friend that I used to miss a lot)
Sometimes I caught myself secretly hoping that somehow your computer crashed and that’s why you suddenly stopped writing your brief but frequent emails like you used to.
Or, that someone stole your cellphone and you lost my number so you could not contact me anymore.
Or, you banged your head so hard that you suffer a severe amnesia and that’s why you forgot me, and the promise you made about three months ago.
Or, stepping out of your comfort zone, you would tell me that you don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore.
But how can I understand silence? You have taught me that silence is not always gold. Your silence is loud and deafening. And I don’t like it.
(Anyway, I pray that none of the three top things above happened or will ever happen to you. I just want to believe that you don’t keep in touch with me because you can’t (though you want to), and not because you don’t want to (though you can))
Sometimes I caught myself secretly hoping that somehow your computer crashed and that’s why you suddenly stopped writing your brief but frequent emails like you used to.
Or, that someone stole your cellphone and you lost my number so you could not contact me anymore.
Or, you banged your head so hard that you suffer a severe amnesia and that’s why you forgot me, and the promise you made about three months ago.
Or, stepping out of your comfort zone, you would tell me that you don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore.
But how can I understand silence? You have taught me that silence is not always gold. Your silence is loud and deafening. And I don’t like it.
(Anyway, I pray that none of the three top things above happened or will ever happen to you. I just want to believe that you don’t keep in touch with me because you can’t (though you want to), and not because you don’t want to (though you can))
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