Do We Want to Be the Church?

"Going to church" is a concept completely foreign to the Bible.

The church is not a building. It's not a place to go.
The church is not an event. It's not an activity to do.
The church is not a club. It's not a game to play.

Rather, the church is something to BE. It is the bride of Christ, the living breathing children of God.

Do we really want to be the church?

I've been thinking about this question quite a bit over the past few weeks. Ever since I was asked by an elder with whom I meet regularly. In no real particular order, below are some of the questions I've been asking myself:

• Do I really want to "do life" with other brothers and sisters in Christ?
• Do I really want the church more than I want my life lived my way?
• Do I really want my time with the church to be dominated by talk of Christ?
• Am I willing for my home to be shared with the church?
• Am I willing to simply drop by others' homes?
• Am I willing for others to simply drop by my home at any time?
• Am I willing to have a completely disruptable life?
• Am I willing to live within "life distance" from others rather than driving distance?
• Am I willing to live in a neighborhood "below my means" to live among the church?
• Am I willing to live in a home that may be "too small" to live among the church?
• Am I willing to sacrifice my routines for the sake of the church?
• Am I willing to sacrifice my leisure activities for the sake of the church?
• Am I willing to eat what I'd rather not for the sake of the church?
• Am I willing to change my plans for the sake of the church?
• Am I willing to arrange my schedule for the benefit of the church rather than myself?
• Am I willing to sacrifice my children's activities for the sake of the church?
• Am I willing to sacrifice my children's homework time for the sake of the church?
• Am I willing to disrupt my children's routines for the sake of the church?
• Do I really want my children to experience the church rather than "Sunday school"?
• Do I really want to children to experience the church more than what the world has to offer?

In essence, am I willing to sacrifice "my"?

Questions I continue to ponder.

Houston: Take-Aways

This isn't Amos, but it is in Houston.

So, last weekend and early last week was the final time (to our knowledge) that Amos will need to go to Houston for medical-related reasons. There were a few take-aways, mostly positive.

• The neuropsych evaluation revealed no abnormal or delayed development. That isn't to say that he won't in the future, but up to now, we have a lot to be thankful for.

• There have been no observed seizures since he went on medication the on the day following his first seizure, so there have been only two recorded seizures. His VEEG on Tuesday, however, revealed sub-clinical seizure activity in his brain. In the near future this means that he'll either need an increased dosage of his present medication or a second anti-seizure medication. I'm glad it was caught early.

• In the intermediate-to-distant future there will be no return to China. We had been considering weaning Amos off his medication, as he hasn't had a seizure for more than two and a half years, but after the aforementioned VEEG, that plan is kaput. Unless Chinese treatment for this disorder improves dramatically, we face the reality that we must stay in the U.S. in an ongoing struggle to control what can't be cured.

• As per FDA requirements with regards to Amos's medication, Amos has had to see a optometrist every three months. That requirement has been lifted, which makes for two or three fewer optometrist appointments per year. More to be thankful for!

• I'm simply glad that I don't have to drive in Houston traffic again until I choose to do so. We spent something like 80 minutes on the 17 mile-drive on I-610. I won't miss that.

So that's about it. Goodbye, Houston. We appreciate the wrok of many doctors and techs, and we are forever grateful to friends who've helped us with home-stays and such, but I won't miss the long drives and long days.

Leaving never stops being difficult (but you get used to it)

Oh, how we will all miss story time with Donna ayi.

"If anyone knows how to say goodbye to people, it's you."

That may not actually be a direct quote, but something to that effect was said to me by a good friend a few days ago. Left by itself, divorced from context, such a statement could have a very vibrant life of its own, not necessarily a positive one.

But I understood what my friend was communicating: Over 10 years, saying goodbye to family and friends in the US, saying goodbye to the parade of expats coming and going from Changsha, goodbye has become as normal as a birthday. It's almost a rite of summer. You get used to it.

That doesn't mean it's easy.

And I hate being the one to leave.

Though not so extreme as going from China to the US, we're slowly getting ready for another big move: from Texas to Arkansas. This time, rather than the huge cultural change were readying for a lifestyle change, one of trading the safe harbor of my fathers'' home for the uncertain currents of independent life.

But as with China, we don't just leave a place; we leave a people.

We haven't put down roots in Texas, so to speak, but neither have we been rootless. Liao Sha's been involved with a mother's group. I've been involved with two morning mens' groups. Our family has been meeting with a city group hosted by one of my old Des Moines roommates. We've enjoyed our time with my fathers' church in Weatherford. We've felt at home with the Chinese church in Fort Worth and have grown close to a Korean family in that body.

These are people we've prayed with and for. These are people who have prayed for us. These are people with whom we've shared concerns and meals. These are people who've extended open hands of friendship and open hearts. These are people who've surprised us time and time again with clothing and toys for the boys, food products, invitations, and even money. There are people we don't even know who are right now contributing to a project initiated by my wife's friends to gather up household goods we may need in Fayetteville: dishes, blankets, etc.

And soon we will leave them. For the second time in less than eight months, we will uproot for a new horizon, and new people, and a new way of life. It never gets easier. At least it doesn't for me. And I would always prefer for people to leave me than I them. Yet, off we will go.

Something that just hit me yesterday is that this will be the second time since November that Barnabas will have his social world turned upside-down. (Perhaps annihilated?) He still occasionally mentions old friends in Changsha, most commonly Mai-mai, Chu-chu, and Enosh (in that order of frequency). Now he'll say goodbye to his seven-year-old cousin (whom he adores), Marley jiejie, Dong-dong meimei, Stephen gege, and Naomi meimei among others. He'll lose story time with Donna ayi and playtime with relatives. When I thought of this yesterday, it nearly caused me to cry.

This post is for our friends and family in China, whom we still miss on a daily basis.
This post is for my friends and family scattered across the US, whom we hope to see.
This post is for our friends and family in Texas, whom we will miss and already grieve leaving.

Thank you for being part of our lives.

Different communities

Saturday evening my wife an I went on our first date since early October. It was everything I could've hoped for. We had coffee. She drove in an empty parking lot. We had dinner. We shopped a bit. I joked about leaving town and not coming back.

It was a rough 5+ months. Obviously we should not wait so long between dates, so why did we wait so long?

There's a certain cultural adjustment that needed to be made and will continue to be needed: Babysitting.

In China, this was so much easier for us.

On one hand, there were a relatively large number of expats (not all American or even North American) who were willing to watch our kids. Some even asked to do so, inviting us to go out. Here the important factor was not entirely cultural, but mostly relational. We'd been there a long time. We knew people we could trust. People knew us and wanted to help. The only cultural aspect was that expats seem to become more helpful toward and rely on one another a bit more than people do in the US, so asking for help is less awkward.

The bigger cultural difference is family.

In the US I have to recognize that my parents have their own lives. They have their own friends, their own interests, and their own events, all of which need to be considered. Given that living with them is already a major act of generosity on their part, asking even more help to watch kids is a bit sensitive. At least, it feels that way to us.

Things aren't the same in China. It's not that Liao Sha's parents don't have their own lives, their own friends, their own interests, etc. It simply that family trumps all in China. As my wife has said, "Family are the only people you never have to worry about asking for help." We didn't overuse their help, but we didn't feel constrained from asking either.

I'm not blaming my parents or praising Liao Sha's. It's simply that the culture is different, and in lieu of having enough money for a trustworthy babysitter or living near people who can/will take care of your children, adjustments need to be made. We're still in the adjustment process.

What are parents for?

What would you ask your parents to do for you? What wouldn't you ask them to do? Do you worry about burdening them? About asking too much?

The last whole family picture (minus sister-in-law and nephew) taken in China

Being in the US living with my family has shed light on a major area of cultural difference between how my wife and I view our relationships to our parents, and if I be so bold, between Americans and Chinese in general. It is a clear division between collectivist and individualist thinking. It causes me not a little tension.

Since we've been in the US, we've had to ask Liao Sha's mother and father to help us do numerous things back in Changsha. Some of these things have required them to spend money. All of them have required expenditures of time. One day I expressed that I feel bad that we're here but still bothering them so much, that we're still interfering in their lives. Liao Sha looked at me and said, "We don't think like that. Parents are the only people we never have to worry about bothering."

I don't think like that here with my family. I am constantly doing chores so as to "do my fair share." We make sure to buy enough vegetables and whatnot so that everyone can eat, figuring (a) it's the least we can do given that we're not paying rent and are interfering with their daily lives, and (b) it's a way of "pulling our own weight". Whereas if in Changsha, we'd be training Amos to comfort himself to sleep, we don't dare do so here for fear of bothering everyone.

Do you see the contrast? Raised in an individualist, highly independence-minded culture, living with my parents is embarrassing enough without causing extra strain on them. Thus, I worry about being a burden. Raised in a collectivist, community-minded culture, living with parents would be completely normal, and asking parents for help is 理所当然, a matter of course. Thus, Liao Sha lives at complete ease, never worrying about being a burden to her family.

What do I want my sons to know? How do I want my sons to think about Liao Sha and me when they grow up? I imagine the healthiest of views is somewhere in the middle, but how do we get there?

马年快乐！Happy Year of the Horse!

(A version of this post was originally posted here on my more professional blog.)

Being back in the US for Chinese New Year (Spring Festival) has been odd for both my wife and I. For her, it's the first time she's ever been away from her family over Spring Festival. For me, I simply miss a festival that had become such an important part of my life. Last Thursday night I even ended up watching performances from the CCTV Spring Festival Gala (春晚) on Youtube with my eldest son. The family eating together at the end of this performance made me cry.

Making jiaozi during a Spring Festival of yesteryear.

I thought for this post I'd simply share a few things that I love, or at least miss, about Chinese New Year in China. These are in no particular order.

1. Baijiu (白酒) with the menfolk

Foreigners tend to unfairly bash baijiu (Chinese "white" liquor) to no end, and I admit that it took effort for me to acquire a taste for the stuff. Nevertheless, drinking with my father-in-law and other male relatives had become a highlight of every holiday and birthday celebration. It bonded us together. It's when I really felt one with them, and I may be so bold as to say it's when they felt most at home with me. Effect of mild intoxication? Hardly. I'll give the simple explanation people gave me: This is Chinese culture. If you really dive into Chinese culture, you'll find that is really the perfect explanation.

2. Fireworks

OK, I don't really miss the fireworks. I mean, between the air pollution, the 5:00 a.m. (if you're lucky) wakeup call, and the constant use that makes one crazy on about day four, it's not really something I could miss. Still, not a single firework? Not even one?! It's a bit disappointing. 真扫兴！

3. Preserved meats (腊肉)

Not only did I miss meat-hanging season, but now I don't get to eat any myself! 非常扫兴！

4. Big family dinners

Not all Chinese families are large, but my wife's is. Aside from New Years Eve, when it was just us, her parents, her brother, and her brother's wife, Spring Festival dinners usually hosted no less than 20 people. Day after day, home after home, dinner after dinner. Eventually I grew sick of all the food and renao, but I miss being a part of it. In the words of Joni Mitchell (or glam metal band Cinderella), "You don't know what you've got, till [sic] it's gone."

5. Seeing the joy on my wife's face and on the faces of the children (mine and others')

Last Friday morning I asked my wife if she wanted to stay here on Saturday and make jiaozi (Chinese dumplings) with my family or go to the Chinese church to celebrate with them. Eventually she decided to stay home and teach my family how to make jiaozi. We made filling, made the wraps, and made the jiaozi all while listening to the CCTV Spring Festival Gala. Eventually she remarked that she finally felt a little of the Chinese New Year spirit. Before that moment, I had mourned that the Spring Festival delight that had always been present in previous years was not in her eyes this year. Not seeing her delight gave me a sense of loss, as well. At least I saw a glimmer Saturday evening.

Making jiaozi this year.

So, readers: If you've experienced Chinese New Year but are spending Spring Festival 2014 abroad, what do you miss?