Jock Strap Kind of Love

Upon pondering this, I realized that so often my big encounters with the Lord were actually an adrenaline-laced experience of being with hundreds of people worshipping in the same place. It wasn't actually about God, it was about me being in the middle of a large event who's momentum fooled me into believing I was meeting with God. This is just my jacked up heart and mind. Anyway...

Romans 12 has officially sucker punched me in the jugular. It's this litany of evidences that are easy to succeed at every once in awhile, but certainly not all of them in the same day. This chapter piles out different ways that will evidence your faith in Christ.

Romans 12:12 (This is just one verse. Trust me people, the verses that follow will make you look up at God and scream uncle.)

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them.


Bless them. That's an active motion. I typically just like to ignore those who persecute me. Except for the one time where I started off praying for but then started plotting ways to kill an old lady's parakeet. Usually I can just ignore them and keep moving. But this verse is calling me to bless them. To include them in my life like Jesus did to Judas. Romans talks about this as a mark of being a Christian because there is nothing in this world that tells us to bless those who persecute and hurt us. To actively seek their good. Rolling my eyes and saying 'whatever' is not actively seeking their good.

If I actually live my life this way, I would immediately feel my heart giving my head a high-five, congratulating in for trickling down all of its information into something useful. Then while I'm doing a proverbial hurky in my spirit, I would realize that my pride just canceled out all those "marks of the true Christian," that just occurred.


If I actually lived this way, the world would do a double-take at Jesus because this life He lived was so dastardly out of the ordinary. He melted the anger of mobs, white-knuckled flames being thrown as stones to an adulterous woman.

I wonder how many wars would be prevented if the church took in our enemies? Fed them warm wheat bread and soft cups of green tea. The risk in this is that there will be times that our kindness won't be reciprocated. That our thoughtfulness will drown in a pool of hate and dissension. But if we resent the thoughtfulness not being reciprocated, I think it exposes our motivations weren't in line with Jesus' in the first place. 

I'm honestly not sure where my personal application in this is. I just know that for too long I've loved those who loved me back. That's bench-warming type of love. That's easy. Blessing those who persecute you requires one to man up, put on a jock strap, and love Jesus enough to take a few hits for the team.

You are what you drink?

Hubs has joined the blogging world today by contributing this:

(As a quick aside when we facetimed with hubs this morning, my son asked, "What is that blue thing you are wearing?" Brad responded with, "That's called a button down shirt and tie, buddy.")

This may be a misquote, but I read somewhere that you are what you eat drink.....

Let's try it....

Yep, it's true!

Before passing my defense, my advisor did have to make one clarification. 

He caught my reaction on camera. 

Well, . . . I've spent 11 years on 4 degrees post high school. 

What have I learned from all this? I'll save that for my next blog.

For now, I need to reacquaint myself with that thing called sleep. 

I think they have books on that too. Off to the library....

No More Jesus Pep-Rallies

Does anyone else feel like sometimes they have been fooled into attending a Jesus pep-rally? Like the bigger, slicker, louder your event than the more God is moving. Bigger, slicker, louder isn't a sin until it becomes a requirement for me to "feel" the Lord's presence.

I have been a Christian culture groupie for a long time. Until we moved to China, I would roll my eyes at Thomas Kinkade, saxophone worship song interludes, and pastors who wore suits. All of  my arrogance balled itself up and would pelt anyone else who decided that mainstream was good enough for them. I thought (erroneously) that the edgier I was, the closer to Jesus I had become. I would attend these huge events and vow to never listen to Salt-N-Pepa again. Until of course someone would say "ladies, all the ladies" over a loud speaker and I would immediately start thinking "louder now, help me out..."

Looking back, I realize that I was addicted to the experience of Christianity and not the person of Christ. So enter from stage right a big traumatic move to China. Enter from stage left 5 children. My adrenaline faith wasn't going to get me through this. When people asked me about my walk with the Lord, I didn't have much to say because in my peon brain that question was really asking me how much time I had spent with Jesus in the morning. Nothing more and nothing less. This question is a valid one, but I have struggled with this over the last few years. With 5 kids, most nights involve at least one of them waking up for some reason.

The dolphins were attacking their sheets.

T-Rex was eating their pajamas.

Brother just piled drived me from the top bunk.

I would wake up exhausted and the last thing I wanted to do was sit in prayer. For awhile I would just suck it up. That's what all good Texas women do. We suck.it.up. I would start to pray and then become so excited that I got to close my eyes that sleeping was not far behind. But after my sleep/prayer time, I always felt much better. But honestly I have to attribute that to the sleep factor, not the prayer one.

My walk with Jesus is just going to need to look different. I was going to need to pray while I did dishes; to spend a little time in the morning before the kids woke up, but it just wasn't going to be 2 hours of study. I was going to need to put a Bible in the bathroom to read for the 30 seconds each day when my kids don't know where I am. I was going to have to find reasons to be grateful and allow that to help me to love Jesus more. I was going to have to pray harder with my kids, study the Bible more with them in homeschool. My "devo" time was going to have to be rolled out within the course of the day.

This has been so freeing and actually helped me to spend more time with Jesus in the long run. When I was motioning through my times in the morning, I subconsciously told myself that Jesus and I were done for the day. As my kids get older, I'm sure this will change. I just hope that for you moms in the trenches, this brings you freedom to find a good rhythm in your day. I would love to hear how other moms do this.

PhD is almost finished!

I proposed this very thing to Brad. Seriously, they would so remember your defense if you went in with a tambourine. 

My dear husband is defending his thesis this week. We have been married for almost 14 years, and almost all of those years can be marked in semesters. He has done 2 Masters degrees and now a PhD. All of this momentum will hit a wall the end of October. We've labeled his grey hairs affectionately with each step of this degree. 

I am so amazingly proud of him. We.made.it.

Freedom to Sing-Part 2

  

This is the follow-up post to this and this. 

Moses’ response was steady. “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the Lord, which he will work for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall never see again. The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.” Be silent is the only thing you don’t want to do when you are afraid. Seemingly you are allowing tragedy to happen without a fight. Yet, this is exactly what Moses (and the Lord) is requiring of the Israelites. No kicking and screaming, just faith.

The Lord instructs Moses to “Tell the people of Israel to go forward.” To keep walking. One foot in front of the other. In order to walk without stumbling, you must keep your eyes looking ahead. Looking back brings missteps and confusion. Look forward. Trust each step. In the case of the Isrelites, the forward view only brought more uncertainty. Water. Deep, dark seas full of death. The very waters that claimed an entire generation of Hebrew boys. It is these very waters that the Lord was drawing their hearts to trust.

As Moses lifted his arms, the Egyptian army was being motivated by the hardening of their hearts by the Lord. He was rescuing the Israelites in one breath and motivating the Egyptians in the other. A contradiction of strategy, yet perfectly constructed to build a faith in His people. They didn’t need the Egyptians to surrender, they needed the Lord to overcome. A new resolve in the Egyptians would require of the Lord a redemption plan not written by Moses.

And as a father to a scared child, the Lord provided a pillar of cloud before and after them to guide them into the unknown of the Red Sea. A father who has his hands on the small of the child’s back, guiding them into school on the first day. Excitement, fear, trepidation. They chose to follow simply because Dad said it would be okay.

Moses’ hand was raised and before the unbelieving minds of the Israelites, the waters became a pathway of salvation instead of a trapping of death. The walls would close them in, not destroy them. The water’s destruction would be reserved for the strength of the Egyptians. Their power and renown taken down by cascading water and the pounding footsteps of an escaping Israelite nation.

As they moved out of the dry bed of the Red Sea, their feet were muddy and moving in humilty at the power of the Lord’s hand.

The Israelites began to sing. Freedom welled up from the depths of their fear and brought about song. Hope restored. It is from either the hope or reality of freedom that brings song. Fear confuses the notes and we are left silent. But here, the Israelites were free. And songs were sung to the cadence of feet stomping out freedom by walking away from oppression for the first time in generations. No longer would bondage define who they were. Their children could dream without it remaining a wish. 

God wants our freedom to sing. To not allow fear of the unknown to choke out the notes transcribed and composed by God. God wants freedom to not be mustered up by self-motivation and Christian pep-rallies. He wants our hearts to unwind from the fear of self and beat in time with His glorious song of redemption. 

The Crisis of Mixed Identity-Part 1

When the Egyptians realized that they had just freed an entire workforce of Israelites, they panicked. The Israelites had been set to the tasks of hard labor for 400 years. Generation after generation woke up to move bricks and harvest wheat. The Israelite children did not dream of starting their own business or building a new home. Their future had been hijacked by the realities of slavery. All of their hope would be dictated by the Egyptians. For many Egyptians, outsourcing the hard labor had become a way of life.

For the Israelites, oppression and fear had define who they were as a people. No longer where those things to fight against. For generations, grandparents had instructed their grandchildren the ways to remain human and yet a slave. How to remain free in their soul while in bondage for their reality. When Moses shows up on the scene, he is asking the Israelites to strip themselves of the comfort they had found in oppression. It was who they had become. They had become someone else’s convenience. Freedom was a needless accessory. While their daily tasks were instructed, their necessities were taken care of. Now Moses is asking them to put their national freedom and the name of their God above all else. To forsake the daily provisions and proclaim their allegiance to God. To march defiantly away from Egypt and trust that the Lord is going to provide food, shelter, and a way of escape.

As Moses fought for their freedom, a sense of jubilation began to fill the cavities of a population emptied of identity. Under duress, Pharoah had let the Israelites go.  I am sure tentative celebrations ensued. As they walked away from their homes, their heads were lifted in confidence by the protection they had received during the ten plagues. All around them they watched, heard, and smelled suffering among the Egyptians. It seemed that they had been inoculated from that reality. But their eyes would still behold the power and destruction that their God was capable of.

The scuffle of their feet created a barrier of smoke and dust as they pulled themselves into freedom. Their steps would quicken as they realized that retribution was only a fear entertained. Until someone heard a noise. The dust settled as their feet stopped walking. Whispers and confusion would ensue as they tried to identify the rhythmic sounds of an encroaching Egyptian army. Pharoah had been shaken to his senses by the tasks that were now laid upon his own people. They would have to do their own labor. They would have to own up to the tasks once belonging to the Israelites. That would not do. The social status gap had already widen and been set in stone. The Egyptians would not be doing the work of an Israelite.

The Israelites turned their heads from the sounds of oncoming horses and chariots to look straight ahead at a horizon of water.  Trapped in by an enemy of  humanity and nature. Their death would be by sword or drowning. Two fates and no faith. Exodus 14:12 “Is this not what we said to you in Egypt: ‘Leave us alone that we may serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness.”  Despite being rescued 10 times over in Egypt, their present reality pushed them so far into fear that their salvation seemed like a dream. Fuzzy and distant, they ached to remember the salvation of the Lord.  It seemed a luxury to sit in the comfort of the Lord. Urgency would now force them to rely on their present circumstances.

A Junior High Nightmare of Senior High Proportions

I have realized for awhile now that I have shied (Is that how you spell shy-ed? That looks like the Hebrew word for cabbage.) away from Biblical reflections. Some of it is because my husband is doing a PhD and when that happens, you feel like any contributions you make to the discussion are like Pez candy. People tolerate the candy because it's in a cute little container. The candy really isn't that good. I'm just not in the business of being patronized. Not by my husband, but my those lovely little voices in my head.

So, I've felt like my thoughts seem a tad trivial and immature. But I also love reading a Bible story and scuffling through the dirt with the characters. Finding rocks in my shoes and manna in my shirt pocket because I've spent time in these stories.

The other totally self-absorbed part of it is that there is not really much to comment on when you do these types of posts. Unless you are calling people to buy fair trade or give up rock music, comments are fairly silent. That makes me feel like I'm at a junior high dance and my skirt is tucked in my underwear. And then Raw Bass comes on I'm all in that dance circle giving it the varsity try while everyone else is watching my skirt tucked in my underwear. Everyone snickers and nobody tells me until the song is over. You just don't know if the people reading are actually reading or just metaphorically patting you on the head.

Mortified.

That's how it feels when I do these types of posts. So, there it is folks...in all of its dysfunctional glory. Over the next two days I'm going to throw some of my reflections out there about the Israelites. This was going to go in a chapter in my next book, but I will tell you that I'm not sure I have the energy nor enough Sara Groves music to get me through another book just yet.

The day I turned 36.

I turned 36 last week. That's a precarious number when rounded up. There are a few things I've realized about being 36.

(I have also come to realize that I could have baby sat Justin Beiber and maybe even given birth to him. 1994...let that sink in.)

1. I've skated past wearing the shorts stage. It's all capris from here on.  And bathing suits with skirts. And probably insoles.

2. I can no longer flip off diving boards or even turn my head too fast. I experience instant vertigo and it leaves me feeling like I'm at a Pink Floyd concert.

3. I have to do things like put on face cream, get moles removed, and pluck hairs not just on my eyebrows.

4. When I tell a story about college and start by saying, "ten years ago..." I actually mean almost 20 years ago but my brain refuses to think in decades.

5. I find myself put out when this younger generation doesn't know things like, "We didn't start the fire," OJ Simpson, or how to taper roll their jeans.

6. I feel like I should be wearing tucked in floral print blouses.  And maybe even iron them.

7. I'm oh so grateful that the Lord didn't listen to my ridiculous "husband list" that went something like this:

My future husband would wear mid-calf length socks. Never a color, always white. He would be witty, smart, and able to grill. He wouldn't be too needy nor would he know how to sew. He would play guitar, soccer, and board games with orphans. 

8. Playing badminton is now considered vigorous exercise that will result in a sore right arm in the morning. Sometimes it will also result in tennis elbow and a pulled hamstring.

9. In my mind you can still do cartwheels, the hammer, and wear jelly bracelets.

10. I gravitate towards documentaries, wordless music, and audio books read by Morgan Freedman.


People have asked if I feel old and I have to say that it hasn't been that traumatic for me this year. I'm probably in denial. But when I look at the fact that I have 5 children, 36 just feels right.

Kesed is 5! Look out world

This little dude turned 5 last week. I already blogged about the parenting fail all stemming from a round cake. That's right...a round cake. Three cheers for strong-willed children. The great thing about strong-willed children, is that if the Lord gets a hold of their hearts, they turn into strong-willed followers of Christ. They maintain conviction and live with passion. Lord, please capture his heart. Like as in...tomorrow. 

He chose to have quiche for his birthday. This dude loves a good quiche. He and every church-going woman over 60. We went around and shared some of the things we loved about him. 

 Creative

Loves to make people laugh

Enjoys learning

Curious

Compassionate and caring brother

Strong sense of justice

Strong leader

He only wants to marry someone of Asian decent. 

Kesed brings us an immense amount of joy and laughter. He is focused and determined in all things. He does life like it's the fourth quarter and he's down by one. Full throttle.

 I love his zeal and passion and yet he comes to wipe his sisters' eyes when they are crying. Happy Birthday to our little monkey. We love you!

Adoption links and picking a winner

First of all, I want to invite you over to Carrie Anne Hudson to jump into a grab bag of adoption/fostering resources. 

If you have a book, website, blog, sermon, etc that you would like to share, please link it over there. 

If you are curious about adoption, read it over there.

 If you want to subtly show your parents that you haven't gone completely made by considering adoption, send them a text that will lead them there. 

For those of us who have walked through adoption, I encourage you to put resources there. When I have people email me with, "So, I've been researching online about adoption..." my lungs cease to continue working. There is so much junk online about adoption. Let's lead them to God-centered, grace-filled, I-can't-do-this-apart-from-Jesus'-help type of resources. Ok, go!

********************

Now to the giveaway from last week. 

Let's pretend that lovely photo booth doesn't flip the photos and the winner is #12.

I need to apologize for the fact that my son is never wearing clothes. I'm hoping that changes by the time he hits Junior High. 

ROBIN!

She said that, "When I was small, I wanted to be an astronaut!"

Robin, if you could send me a comment to this post with your mailing address, I won't publish it. Congrats! 

Check out Noonday's other products here. Thanks Jamie for letting us team up and spread the word about this fabulous company. 

China Pinterest: Lighting

Before we get down to business, don't forget to enter the Noonday Collection Giveaway here. All the cool kids are doin' it. Promise. Giveaway ends Sept. 30th. Don't people in the States start Christmas shopping about now? 

Several weeks ago I brought to you, China Pinterest. My new motto is "Don't ask why, just be ok with it." I don't know the other Pinterest's motto. I'm sure it's something about "Pin it now, convince yourself you'll do it later."

Today we're talking lighting. It's the thing that pushes back the shadows of our lives. Light is a universal need by all of humanity. 

.

Here you can see the faint crinkle of thick scotch tape. When your lamp has been pummeled with soccer balls and bouncy red horses, it no longer stands upright. Take a light weight tape and adhere the lamp to your wall. Voila! A perfectly straight lamp. 

Ikea will be jealous they didn't think of this first. Track lighting. When T-Rex finds himself being man handled by My Little Ponies, things can get out of hand. It happens to the best of us. Sometimes Mr. T Rex goes flying across the room and punctures your perfectly upright lamp. 

This now allows you to have track lighting down your hallway. This lamp has now been promoted to: Multi-Directional Lighting.

In China the more colors and metals you can represent in your lighting, the better. This classic 1980-tattoo inspired light hangs purposelessly over our bookshelf. Dangling down are streams of teardrop shaped fake crystals. Just in case I ever lose an earring on top of the bookshelf or am found wandering aimlessly in the middle of the night longing to play a quick game of Risk. 

If you don't actually want to use your living room lights, be sure to stretch a thick tan canvas over that light.  You can try and turn the light on but it will be in vain. No lightbulb can penetrate the force of faux animal skin. Just leave it off and leave the faux animal pelts for high heels and gaudy handbags.

Whew, what a money saver!

This is the living room light in my friend's house. It's a multi-functional reading/rave light. On crazy Wednesday nights, I can look through my window and see them homeschooling by the soft turning light of that disco ball. Just keepin' things classy. 

 I'm so thankful for this electrical outlet place subtly above the toilet and towel rack. Just in case I ever need to charge my computer while going to the bathroom. This is an amazing time saver. 

You can teach the kids how electricity works as you pick something plastic, NOT metal, to help dislodge this cord. All of the sudden this frustrating electrical plug has become a science manipulative. 

When they install outlets here, oftentimes they just drill holes and hope for the best. This leads to things like this. They tried once to put this lighting in, but the wires didn't reach. Take two. This is helpful to show my kids, "If at first you don't succeed...try, try again." Lighting AND a moral. Perfect. 

Suggestions on what to tackle next?

Noonday Collection Giveaway-We're talking futures today!

I'm pumped about this giveaway! Whenever you can purchase something and also be a part of bringing justice and hope to people, I consider it a win-win. My good friend, Jamie, has been a part of Noonday Collection for awhile and I asked her to share a little and then we'll be giving away this bracelet:

Hi everyone! I’m so excited that Carrie has opened up her blog to share about Noonday Collection, an amazing company that sells jewelry, accessories, and home goods all handmade by women around the world who are working their way out of poverty. Noonday Collection was started by Jessica Honegger a few years ago as a fundraiser for the adoption of her son from Rwanda and has turned into a thriving “not-just-for-profit” business that is changing the lives of women across the globe. 


This business model is revolutionary, because it acknowledges the fact that companies do not have to choose between making money and helping others. You can do both and still be successful! These women are breaking the cycle of poverty in their lives--not through a hand out, but through an opportunity to bring their goods to the global marketplace and sell them for a fair price. 



I found out about Noonday Collection about two years ago when I was invited to attend a trunk show that was being hosted to benefit a friend’s adoption. (Hostesses of trunk shows can choose between receiving 10% of the profits from their show in merchandise or in cash to go towards their own or a friend’s adoption costs.) As a huge proponent of the fair trade industry, I was thrilled that buying these beautiful pieces was actually a way that I could help women in developing countries and contribute to my friend’s adoption. 


By purchasing these gorgeous necklaces, earrings, scarves, and purses (and much more!) you have the opportunity to stand behind these women and support them in their endeavor to change their lives for the better. In fact, the name “Noonday Collection” was taken from Isaiah 58:10 which says “when you satisfy the needs of the oppressed, your night will shine like the noonday.” The oppression of poverty, injustice, and hopelessness is crushing, but these women are feeling the warmth of that noonday sun on their faces as we purchase the items that they lovingly craft.And lest you think you have to compromise your sense of style by buying from Noonday, check out the fall line that just came out. Gorgeous, fashion-forward pieces that go with absolutely everything! The buyers at Noonday Collection choose the very best—a balanced offering of trendy and classic. There is something for every style so take a minute to browse the website and pick out your favorites! I hope you’ll join me in this opportunity to look good while doing good! 

This is the code if you’d like to add a button to your blog 
http://www.jamierives.noondaycollection.com/" target="_blank">http://www.noondaycollection.com/img/enewsletter/noonday-button-150x165.png
" />

My personal link to the noonday site is www.jamierives.noondaycollection.com



Ok, so here are the details of the giveaway:

I love that Noonday Collection is giving these women hope in their future. With that in mind, leave a comment here to enter. I want to hear about what you wanted to be when you grow up. I'll start.

I wanted to be a cashier at Eckerd's Drugstore. Pretty sure I was enamored with the cash register. It made my parents overwhelmingly proud to be raising such an overachiever.

It's your turn. Just comment below on what you wanted to be when you grow up and why. The winner will be picked at random and will receive the bracelet pictured at the top. For my overseas friends, you can enter and then I'll have it sent to a stateside address. Or if you win and want it sent to someone as a gift, we can do that too.

Ready, set, go! The giveaway will end on Sept. 30 (midnight EST), because that's my birthday and it will make the number 36 feel not so heavy if I am focused on giving something to someone else. Let's just call this "avoiding the inevitable."

The Cake of Discomfort

When you put things like this on Facebook, God sees. God sees the whole thing. Sometimes I think He then cracks His knuckles, smirks at the angels in the outfield, and lobs one over the plate for me to take a swing at.

Here was my post the other morning:

We should make decisions for our kids' good, not their comfort. (And come to find out, not for OUR comfort either.)

I spent the morning asking reading comprehension questions to Selah while trying to make a birthday cake for Kesed. He turned 5 this week. I think some crack fell into my coffee because I decided to do a layered cake with all these different colors and sprinkles and frosting and pride. Selah and I ended up piecing the blasted cake together because certainly I can't just take a cake out of the pan and it actually stay together. That's what frosting is for. To hide the imperfections. Frosting does the exact opposite to the imperfections on my thighs.

Cake is finished and waiting for my son to see it and utter his praises upon my creation and probably promise to name his first child after me.

This is an enormous cake because we were supposed to bring it to his school the next morning to share with his classmates. There are 35 kids in his class. Upon seeing the cake his first words were, "I wanted a circle cake."

Breathe, breathe, get husband so that you don't punch a hole through your concrete wall.

We sat him down and talked to him about being grateful. We talked to him to make sure he understood that this cake included lots of the things he said he wanted on his cake.

Crying, he eeks out, "But Mommy I wanted a circle cake."

Trying to be a good mom, my inner monologue cowers out in song. I sing things like: "I am sitting in the morning at the diner on the corner. Da da da daaa, da da da daaa."

After one more good talking to, he still says he wants a circle cake. Stubbornness is one of the lovely spiritual gifts doled out to this child in the creation line. We knew what we had to do. He had to lose the cake. We told him that we weren't going to bring the cake to school and have a party with his friends the next day.

This was really hard for me. I had spent a lot of time on it. The cake was huge and I knew lots would go to waste even if we shared it with friends. Here's where the "this is for his good, not his comfort (or mine)" part comes in. I was reminded that I need to be more concerned with his heart's condition, not a cake. He needs to know that to be discontent about a cake is not ok. He needs to know that he can't control every living creature that dares to cross his path.

He had a cakeless birthday celebration at school, which is pretty much the only thing they do to celebrate that student's birthday...eat cake. I had to explain to the teacher why he had no cake when I told her the day before I would bring one by at 9:30. She did not understand because we live in a place where the kids get whatever they want. All.the.time. While the statement hurt, it is still true:

We should make decisions for our kids' good, not their comfort.


(As an epilogue to this wonderful moment, he later told me very calmly that next year...he would like to have a circle cake.)

Lord help us as parents.

Why Our Kids go to Chinese School

I get this question a lot. Right now 4 of our kids go to National Chinese school everyday for half a day. My oldest daughter is now doing 6th grade work in homeschool and we just need more time, so this is her first semester not in National school.

For our family, letting our children go to National school has been the hardest, best decision we've made while living here. I just registered Charis two weeks ago and it's required multiple trips to photocopy something, get a form stamped, or jump through some hoop. Last year, the principal asked me for 10,000 kuai and a new laptop computer. (To which I kindly told her 'no'.)

If you didn't buy a house in a certain apartment complex or your id (hukou) is from a different city, you can't go to school for free. If that is your situation, after everyone is registered you have to show up on the "bribe the school day," and give the school a little donation so that your child can attend school. The system is really complicated, but that's it in a nutshell. We live close by and we work really hard to convince them to let us attend.

I unpackage this much more in my book, but Chinese education can be summarized by these points:

1. Motivate through fear and intimidation.

2. Memorize as much as possible.

3. Comparison will make you a better student.

4. Your teacher acts as your parent, and is therefore responsible for all moral upbringing.

5. Perfection in your handwriting is a perfection in your character.

6. Your entire schooling career culminates in a test your senior year (the gaokao). Nothing else really matters.


Take these for what they are worth. There are some strong points in their education, memorization being a big one.

Here are the reasons we send them to National school:

1. It gives them a place of influence and to serve.

2. They meet friends. After the age of 5, Chinese kids pretty much study, play piano, take extra classes, and study some more. They do very little playing. If you've read Amy Chua's Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mom, you already know that. I wrote a little about that here.

3. They can learn language naturally. This is huge to help them feel at home.

4. It gives us a chance to rub shoulders with other families.

5. It helps us not feel so foreign and gives us different insights into the culture.


Sending them to National school is not easy. We have to do a lot of communicating about what they are learning and process the things that we don't agree with in that type of education system. But it's given them a heart to understand the Chinese way of thinking. It's given them space in their hearts to sympathize and understand their neighbors. If they did not have good language skills, their lives would feel very isolated. Their community would be small and they would struggle to feel at home.

National school has been a blessing in many ways for our family. I am grateful that my kids were able to start young and attend Chinese school for many years, therefore making it very normal for them.

I know that not everyone can send their kids to Chinese school, but for our family it has been a test of faith and a lesson in joy. And the bottom line is that we have to be less concerned with their comfort and more concerned with their good.

Homeschool Helps and when all else fails...Michael Jackson

*Simple Homeschool has a great post titled, "What about me: On taking care of yourself as a homeschooling mom."

And no...sitting on the toilet for 5 minutes playing Words with Friends is not considered taking care of yourself. (Now add coffee and some junior mints to that equation and you might have an argument.) 

She writes:

I was ready to quit.

I originally chose to homeschool because I thought it was absolutely the best decision for my kids. I wanted them to have the excellent education, individualized curriculum, and flexible schedule that homeschooling could provide.

*At my Carrie Anne Hudson page, some brilliant women posted dozens of ideas on keeping the littles occupied while you try and teach your older ones. Head over there and breathe in the lifeline. I'm going to start posting more community questions over there. It takes a village, we've got a village, we need a village, we are lost and sometimes are searching high and low for a village that knows what the heck is going on.

*This was a really funny list about big families. 

*Last night, we spent an embarrassing amount of time rockin' out  showing the kids You Tube videos of Michael Jackson. Can I tell you the amount of money my poor mother spent on me buying Michael Jackson books, stickers, posters, and fan books from those Troll book orders in 4th grade? A majority of my free time as a kid could be summarized in doing cartwheels, listening to Michael Jackson, and eating sourdough bread dipped in A1 sauce. 

And now you know. 

Have a great week!

The change of plans and translating ( camp 2 )

Hey- I'm back.

         I have just recovered from that two week camp and I actually don't go to bed at 7:00pm anymore. Anyway, as I said in the last blog Drinking sodas and making friends (1),  I (Selah) was just going to head home at graduation night because the whole gang would be there anyway and it would be a lot more convenient. Well, the director came up to us and said "Hey, we are going to take the americans touring around the city and we don't have any translators. Can Selah stay for about 3 more days?" Well this was a shock!
     
         So with a happy heart I said farewell to my family and stayed for three more days. We went to the panda world. ( Don't ever go there unless you want to be eaten alive by bugs or get teared up. It was horrible.) And we went to  the mountain where Watchman Nee lived and had training centers at. A shepherd at every landmark up there would make a 10-15 minute speech about the place we were at and more about Watchman Nee's life.
       
          The first time he made that speech, he finished the first sentence and turned to me, expecting something. I thought "What?"  Then the director that was with us said,"Oh you are translating!" So he would say something and I would translate. PHEW! It was tiring.

                                        These pictures below are the ones taken at graduation.

                                 A buddy and one of the girls from the orphanage.(far right.)

                                                        Doing the hokey pokey

                                                                  Trying to corral.

                                           Foreign  teachers going to the front and blushing.


      Through all those tears and laughter I had one of the best 2 weeks of my life. I learned that my opinion of normal will be different than a lot of people.  Like eating chicken claws; normal. Having porridge for breakfast instead of instant oatmeal; normal.....

       I am glad I got to serve in this special way and I hope I will be able to do it again.
再见 （ good bye)

   SELAH

Favorite Apps for Elementary School Age and Younger

I'm pretty smitten with the whole app thing. I am generally pretty wary of technology and children. I have nightmares of my sons being buried under piles of dirty underwear, hunched over like Mr. Hyde, consumed in dungeons and dragons, and eating Captain Crunch for dinner. But I think the time has come to redeem technology and introduce our kids to fun, educational games that can make you smarter, not hermitier. No, there's no app for words I choose to make up.


Today over at my Carrie Anne Hudson Facebook page, we're collecting and sharing our favorite apps for elementary school age and younger. Have a favorite? See what others are saying.


I did a post awhile back and a few of our family favorites are here.

Hong Kong and Wearing my Daughter's Bathing Suit

Accidentally grabbing my 10-year old's bathing suit instead of mine, Charis and I headed out the door for a few days in Hong Kong. 

 She was getting tested for ADHD. She is the last kid in our little clan that we see symptoms. It's nice to get more help and tools to breathe life into this sweet girl. China doesn't do much in terms of mental health so we had to travel to see a specialist. I was also needing to get a few spots checked out by a dermatologist. 

I did Hong Kong in a more ghetto fashion this time. I found this apartment online to rent out for a few days. Hotels there cost a million dollars and naming rights to your next child. This little apartment was pretty cheap. A bit shady and maybe even illegal, I'm not sure. Anyway, here's the spacious bathroom in which I had to step into the doorway and turn sideways in order to pull up my pants. I just might have sat on that toilet, showered, and brushed my teeth at the same time. If only all of life could be that efficient.

This child of mine takes no normal pictures. We found this incredible 3-story bookstore with lots of English books called Eslite. Our time in Hong Kong can be defined by doctors and this bookstore. Whenever I go to Hong Kong it makes me want to shop, wear make-up, and listen to Sting. I don't even like shopping or make-up. 

These people move through the subway system like worker bees. Everyone has a certain path and they buzz along it with earphones and random electronic devices tucked snuggly in their neatly pleated work pants. 

This is rush hour traffic in Hong Kong. But I will say, the mere fact that people stand in line there makes rush hour bearable. 

We went swimming at Kowloon Park one afternoon. This is an incredible pool. It even had a diving board where the Olympics simply got the best of me. I decided that my 35-year old body could still do flips off the diving board. I seriously almost pulled a hamstring doing a pike dive. Those visions of me wiping down up there on the diving board and throwing the shammy down to the ground like an Olympic diver were indeed just visions and not my reality. 

I do not in fact have a picture of me wearing my 10-year old's bathing suit. I'm sure it reinforced the American stereotype of inappropriate skin oozing out of inappropriate places. Ah well. 

Thankful to be home. Thankful to have spent time with my girl.