Since I didn't get to see Joel on Mother's Day

I spent the Memorial Day with him. 

We visited a few places 

ate at some interesting fusion restaurants--

Italian Japanese, Southern+Asian, Laotian

and spent some time with his best friends. 

Their life and faith stories, their questions and curiosity

made me feel hopeful for their generation and their connection with God.

Reading the quotes at MLK Memorial evoked inspiration

and one of them became real to me.

"Out of the mountain of despair

A stone of hope."

 

 

I still don't know how to create what I want exactly

I just start with a vague idea of what I want

then keep centering

molding

drying

trimming

choosing the colors

and 

waiting

until the fire does its magic

then I get surprised by the outcome

always better than I imagined

even the one I had a hard time centering

sounds a lot like life in the Spirit

we don't always know where the Spirit leads us

we only have a vague idea

then we keep centering

shaping 

adjusting

moving forward

of course waiting

then the Spirit does her magic

creating what we couldn't imagine

I just hope I can trust enough

Mother's Day

With a surprise Korean meal cooked for me, 

beautiful flowers, 

and a cute card with heartfelt messages, 

Mother's Day was full of love.

When they were teenagers,

 they identified me as "The World's Okayest Mom" 

and I liked it. 

Now my young adult children identify me as "a good friend" 

and I like it. 

 

an immigrant's lament

 

maybe it's because of the letter Joel sent me from the Old Korean Legation Museum

or maybe it's because I watched something with two old friends hanging out in their place of memory which looks similar to mine

maybe it's because forsythia just began to bloom 

maybe it's because of the rain for a few days which added double shots of melancholy 

I've been feeling a sense of loss and grief

something I would name as a mild version of homesickness

it comes to me like a seasonal allergy

I am keenly aware that it's a consequence of the choice I made

and I would rather be in pain than numb

lamenting the fact of not having a place to call home

and let the grief run its course

meditating on Jesus 

as an immigrant

Lenten reflection

as the Lenten journey gets longer

purple gets deeper

cross looks closer, bigger, and heavier, 

with a weary heart of Lenten fatigue

we know it's time to prepare for death and burial

of Jesus

of something in us no longer life-giving. 

Whatever form it happens

we are reminded 

by recognizing what's lifeless, letting it die, burying, and sealing it, 

we also become pregnant with a new life.

The place of burial 

also becomes a birthplace of something new. 

That's probably why he named his death 

"a time to be glorified"

my first mug

 

As I was driving away from the studio into the dark cold night

I realized that I had no thoughts or emotions

during the past couple of hours

I was just focusing on the clay and the wheel

with no intention or effort on my part

I practiced deep mindfulness

The color and taste

The color and taste of green tea
tell me the temperature of the water was just right,
which happens rarely.
As the speed of the snowfall gets faster
I try to drink my tea as slowly as possible.
At times
I want to be out of sync with the world.