θαυμάζω

When I started my first job as a pastor late last year, I knew that one of my biggest challenges was going to be learning how to manage my time. However, I knew that the war wasn’t going to rage across the pages of my calendar, but it would be fiercely contested entirely within the confines of my own heart.  All my life, I grew up believing that I was lazy. From a young age, it was something that was reinforced within me and became a cornerstone of my identity as basic and immutable as my race or sex or place of birth. However, unlike my other descriptors, this belief was formed through the years, like a river carving a canyon. When I went to a specialized high school (selective school) but didn’t get As and Bs like my classmates, or take pre-med electives, or even show any academic interest, I told myself that it was because I didn’t have as strong a work ethic as my peers. I didn’t consider that I just did not fit into the Asian immigrant narrative. I was lazy.  Whenever my ...

  The wise old mountain man Far away on a lonely mountain in some distant country lives a wise old man. He never leaves his shack, he never comes down from the mountain, and he never invites anyone over to hang out.  But… if you should ever want to visit this man, he will welcome you into his home. And the legend goes that if you do find yourself a guest of this man, you can ask him anything about life, and he will give you the answer, because according to legend this lonely, wise, old man knows the secret of the meaning of life.  If you ever were to make this trip, you will have to take an airplane to this distant, exotic country. You will have to locate this mountain. You will have to learn how to mountain climb. You will have to spend a lot of money on climbing gear, food, a tent, really warm clothing, maybe like an ice pick or two. You will have to climb, and climb, and climb, until you don’t want to climb anymore, until you don’t have an ounce of strength left in you...