Loves
Things and people and ‘sovereignty’ for which I am thankful-
New York Edition (minus my family b/c they will be included in every list and
are a given).
1.
I am thankful for my parents, and my sister, and
my brothers, Bryant, Robbie, and Frank (the boys there in the order they became
brothers to me in my mind at least).
2.
I am thankful for my in-laws, that Emily Eng
listens to me, even if I want to tell her that her son is driving me insane. I
am thankful for my father-in-law, William Eng, and the things he has taken
ownership for in his past that caused people pain. I am thankful for his heart
and his humility, and his willingness to change. I am thankful for his patience
with me, a girl he probably never would have imagined he’d have to put up with in
his family! I am thankful for all their generosity. I am thankful for their
support throughout ministry, whether they were at church with me, or at another
church and then literally being two of actually a small few who would own up to
systemic and cultural patterns that they were caught up in and that wounded
people, including me.
3.
I am thankful for my brother-in-law, Jordan Eng
(and hope this doesn’t embarrass him) but I have watched him become one of the
most loving and encouraging people I know. I don’t know if he’s always been that
way or not. I didn’t know him that well when I moved here. Our relationship has
progressed through the years, and honestly, it probably progressed as we both
grew up too and had kids. But he shows me grace, and he offers wisdom, and I
respect him, and I feel he respects me, even if he thinks I’m over-the-top or
disagrees with me. OH, and he’s a great home-school mentor and uncle to my
kids.
4.
I am thankful for my sister-in-law, Cheryl Eng.
She has helped me see things about myself that as I think about, others even
tried to help me see before, but in different ways. Her ways of helping me see
were ways that helped open my eyes to my own shortcomings and character-flaws,
or the ways my own wounds made it so that I wounded others. She is brave and
courageous.
5.
I am thankful for Cheryl’s sisters, Caroline and
Christina. I could write and write about these two women and how developing
friendship with them over the years has blessed me. They hold me to no
expectations in terms of “being a good friend,” because they understand we all
live far apart and in different communities these days and that LIFE happens,
but I feel like if I needed anything, ever, I could call one of these ladies,
and they’d have my back. AND they are just talented, intelligent, love God,
funny, fun to be around, and will talk with me about REAL stuff, even if it’s
gross or TMI!
6.
I am thankful for my best friend in the entire
universe, Jennifer Reynoso-Ng, and the incredible LIGHT that she literally
brings with her wherever she goes, ESPECIALLY in the places where she plants
herself and endures. THIS WOMAN, my friends, though she is literally almost
like 20 years younger than me I sometimes feel like because of how much older I
am than her, IS LIGHT YEARS AHEAD OF ME in maturity. If you want to see a saint-in-the-making, look
at her.
7.
I am thankful for her husband Evan, and the ways
in which our friendship has grown over the years. I am thankful for how Evan
and I sometimes are exactly alike in our stories of having to live with another
adult person under the same roof. And I am thankful for how CREATIVE AND
TALENTED he is even though he doesn’t know it. This is a guy who gets stopped
on a street and asked to model in a magazine. This is a guy who can make a
stupid video about cheese and win some contest. This is a guy who has talent and
has been called just as much UP and OUT as any person who is called to be a
disciple, and he walks by faith even when he doesn’t realize it. This man puts
his eyes on Christ, and then he walks. That is by faith.
8.
I am thankful for Andrew and Courtney Chin. They
have been backbones, even when Courtney’s backbone was hurting like crap, and
even though Andrew isn’t the MOST talkative of all the guys. But that’s just
it. Andrew is one of the wisest men I’ve met since coming to NYC… or, he’s
grown into that man at the very least, but I always felt connected to him, even
giving him a silly nickname that I later realized wasn’t even very nice…so I
won’t say it here. But Andrew- he’s where it’s at. And his wife Courtney…. Like
come on…. Things don’t get much better than that….except maybe when they procreate,
which they have, and I can’t wait to meet their son!
9.
I am thankful for people from Grace Faith Church
that I met back in 2007 but that, in all honesty, it took YEARS for me to get
to know and to get to know deeply! It took years for me to be able to be within
those four walls and be my authentic self, as well as get to know people for who
they TRULY were and not just what I was supposed to think in regard to them, if
I’m honest. AND I am so thankful for the growing friendships I have found in
the Moy families, in the Dongs, in Jimmy and Joyce Ng, who remind me of my brother
Bryant and I, and who I hope we are like when we are their age as they joke
with each other all the time! And many more- basically any person in the
English congregation that has stuck around and that I speak with about REAL LIFE
STUFF on a REGULAR basis. Thank you. You are incredible.
10.
I am thankful for Esther Louie and her perseverance.
I am thankful for King Louie and his strength, even though many of the times,
he is not taking the limelight, and I am thankful for the parental wisdom they
have offered me over the years as a 20 something who has done a lot of her
growing up in New York City. I am also thankful to them because of their two
children, Libby and Davey. Davey was my best friend and second hand man back in
2008 and onward running the CC. You guys may not have known that, but God
literally created a program from scratch with a 25 year old woman fresh out of
seminary living 800 miles from home and in the midst of a completely different
culture, and a kid who was in high school, OH and Marion and Cynthia Mak… and a
few others who came in here and there back then to help AND THEN PLENTY along
the way. But yeah- back to Davey. He grew into a young man after God’s heart
and was not afraid to follow Jesus, even leaving the familiar and being
uncomfortable for the sake of the Kingdom of God. And while we’re talking about
this family….Let’s just talk about Elisabeth Louie… this woman- ROCKSTAR. She
isn’t perfect. No one is. She drives me crazy when I try to tell her stories
b/c her and Jesse both interrupt a billion times to ask questions, BUT Libby is
courageous. Libby stands up for herself, and Libby WRESTLES with God. She doesn’t
settle for false faith. If she’s angry, she works it out. No matter how long it
takes. If she’s hurt, she works it out. No matter how long it takes. If she’s
joyful, HER JOY EXUDES and infects everyone around her, and they are uplifted,
like, on the spot. Libby, though seriously like 20 years younger than me probably…
okay or maybe like 10, I don’t know, but LIBBY is a model of a young woman
seeking to find Jesus and being honest as she does it… not finding her
self-worth in what others think of her or if they approve, but in Jesus Christ
and whether or not she’s obedient to Him!
11.
I am thankful for Michelle Gong. Like that’s it.
Enough said. That woman. She is wise. Ladies, if you ever doubt yourself or
struggle in faith or have a question about your worth or how you should be
treated by anyone, talk to this woman. She is a cheerleader for those who feel
lonely and unheard, voices squelched, or anyone who feels trapped within
systems that will not budge to give one breath.
12.
I’m thankful for friends like Nina Chin, Judy
Chan (well she’s my aunt now), Hei and Kevin, and Nicole, and Karen and Pong,
and Becky and ManHo, and Shirley and Eric, and Ken and Joyce, and Samantha and
Lion, Justin and Tiffany Ong, Christen and Joy Smith, Kenny and Mary Tse, Mo
Jon and the most patient woman in the world, HIS WIFE. These are all people
that I haven’t spent much physical time with, but who have loved from afar, or
through social media, or through cards and letters and surprise gifts here and
there…and supported… or have GIVEN us things…. Half my kids clothes are from some
combination of these people, or my seminary friends, or my friends from
college. (I’ll get to list of thanks for ppl outside NY soon enough). The
13.
I am thankful for kids I taught who are now
adults and with whom I now have continuing and CHANGING relationships. ALL MY
CCers FROM 2008-2017!!!! I am thankful for their honesty and vulnerability. I
am thankful for the faith that I see in many of them, even faith trying to work
itself out. I’m thinking here of basically every CC kid that I’ve talked to in
the past few years. The faces that come
to mind FLOOD my mind. I feel like I must know a good portion of the LESide now
as these people become adults (if they decide to return home and live here). I love
now bumping into them at Target or getting wrung up by the at TJs!!! HELLO
BILLY! OF COURSE I REMEMBER YOU!!! And then they babysit. They were in my
wedding. They came to my baby showers. They came to my kids birthdays. They
have given gifts to my kids, or put furniture together in our home, or fed our
pets while we were out of town, and every kid that sat under my Sunday school
lessons for years on end and watched me eat copious amounts of cookies and
drink large volumes of diet coke just to get through the 48572395273545 time
that I was teaching Sunday school. They made it worth it- those guys and gals.
I miss them all. I am thankful that I got to be their teacher. I am thankful I
got to hear their stories from those years of their lives because as I see them
here and there and watch them on facebook, they are blossoming into incredible
young adults.
14.
I AM SO THANKFUL for the new family (pastors, elders,
deacons, their families, laity, and their friends) that I have been developing
with the people from CITY Grace Church, NYC. There are too many to list by name
if I had too… but they have shown me JUST that- GRACE, mercy, love, and gentleness.
They have helped me appreciate things I was unappreciative of, and they have
helped me be aware of more brokenness to which I was blind. And that have
supported me and cared for me, even when they didn’t know me that well and I
wasn’t around much, AND THEY HAVE LOVED MY CHILDREN AND SUPPORTED JESSE AND
ACCEPTED HIM AND ENCOURAGED HIM more than I ever saw a church support and
accept and encourage a new, young pastor coming into the fold. They’ve shown
him grace, and they’ve shown him respect, and they’ve rebuilt my faith in so
much. I can’t list all the names. But basically, if you went to City Grace, and
we are friends, or if you started coming to City Grace/GFC in the past 2 years,
and we are friends, THEN I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU!!!! Seriously. I am. Like
seriously, even if you haven’t seen me in a while. You don’t know what a
blessing you have been. Thank you.
15.
I am thankful for the men that come to service
from the hotel next door. They are honest. They don’t pretend to be anything
they are not. They talk to me about real things. They also listen when I
complain about stuff and remind me of what’s important in life. They talk to my
children and are gentle with them and even teach them things. They are open to
hearing about the Gospel and trying to figure out how they can BE changed and
LIVED differently… they are imperfect, JUST LIKE ME. I love them.
16.
I am thankful for David Choi who has literally
revolutionized worship for us. Both churches came with exhausted worship teams.
Dave has been a SPIRIT FILLED gift from God.
17.
I am thankful for my DEAR FRIEND KARA. She was literally
the first person I met since moving to NY that loved me and DID NOT hold it
against me one bit when I could not provide anything for her in return in
regard to friendship. She met me at a period of my life when I was about to
burst, literally (pregnant with Eden), and then she endured with me as I
endured raising a baby and pre-schooler then k5 kid during covid. She was GLUE
holding together two churches as they endured to figure out how to be the
church during covid. KARA. Literally an ANGEL from God who loves no one more
than Jesus Christ. She’s golden, and I love her so much and hope I can be even
a portion of the blessing to her that she has been with me.
18.
I am thankful for each PERSON I
know in NYC who has taken an AUTHENTIC INTEREST in the members of
my family (And there have been many, and not just from my church, but like
people I met through the Asian-American church community that went to other
churches.) These people have become friends, even, some of them, with my family
in real (or virtual) life and they talk to them …. The myriads who helped
shower my sister with her surprise baby after she thought she was done…. The countless
who penned letters to my brother during a season of intense suffering for him…
19.
I am thankful for Shirley and Alice Tam, who
have come back to GFC and brought young kids to our building again. They are a
blessing from God. They bring life, and what’s more, they bring grace and
fellowship. I didn’t know what these women would think of me!! I was so timid
to meet them, but they have embraced me, and I find in them hearts that love
JESUS AND WANT HIS KINGDOM TO GROW. They are not out to see their own names or
brands grow… they are out for the kingdom and loving people, and I am blessed
to have had the chance to serve even in the smallest ways with their ministry,
and I hope to have many more opportunities to serve with them in the future!
I KNOW I HAVE LEFT PEOPLE OUT. I will continue to update
this blog as I think of more….BECAUSE MORE WILL COME TO MIND I AM SURE just as
I walk around my apartment and see something and am like HOLY FREAKING CRAP HOW
COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN TO MENTION ________ WHO IS LITERALLY LIKE THE ONLY
REASON I’M ALIVE or something.
“If you come to me but will not leave your
family, you cannot be my follower. You must love me more than your father,
mother, wife, children, brothers, and sisters—even more than your own life! 27 Whoever will not carry the cross that is
given to them when they follow me cannot be my follower. Luke 14: 26-27
Mark 10:21-31
21 Jesus looked at him and loved him. “One thing you lack,” he said. “Go, sell everything you have and
give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come,
follow me.” 22 At
this the man’s face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth.
23 Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, “How hard it is for the
rich to enter the kingdom of God!”
24 The disciples were amazed at his words. But Jesus said
again, “Children, how hard it is[e] to enter the kingdom of God! 25 It is easier for a camel to go through the
eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”
26 The disciples were even more amazed,
and said to each other, “Who then can be saved?” 27 Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are
possible with God.”
28 Then Peter spoke up, “We have left everything to follow
you!”
29 “Truly I tell you,” Jesus replied, “no one who has left home or
brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the
gospel 30 will fail to
receive a hundred times as much in this present age: homes, brothers,
sisters, mothers, children and fields—along with persecutions—and in the age to
come eternal life. 31 But many who
are first will be last, and the last first.”
August 19th- a day to go down in
history. Many important prominent figures in life were born today, Bill
Clinton, my mother, and one of my best friends, “Titus” Johnathan Agrelius.
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| TGI Friday's in Hong Kong, under a Richmond County, Ga sign. |
For my loyal followers, you have read my tribute to my
mother, penned back in May (and found below if you keep scrolling), but today, I want to take a moment to talk about
someone else who has been a strong tower in my life, a
force that has helped shape my walk with Christ and my view of the world,
someone who has been the older brother I wished I had as a kid, as he’s advocated
for me. He has been someone who has championed me through my many stages and
hair colors, someone who has made me feel important and essential even when I
was silly or flailing around, reminding me I was a daughter of Christ even when
countless boys or situations made me feel like I was not that at all. Thank you,
Titus.
Titus, well, that isn’t his real name, but we’ll leave that
story for another time. For now we’ll start at the beginning, when he first
showed up on the Megin-radar back in June, 2003. I was headed to China, Hong
Kong to be exact, and terrified out of my mind. Twenty-years-old, and having
just flown in an airplane for the first time since I was six-years-old. We were
allotted one 40-pound suitcase to check with the aircraft and carry with us to
Asia. I complied by that rule, but said rule said nothing about the weight of
my carry-on luggage, which I was allotted. That weighed 60 lbs, hands down. No
ifs, ands, or butts about it. I had to have three full-size bottles of shampoo
to go with me. Because I certainly did not want to get build-up while overseas,
and nail polish. Who knew WHAT the nail polish supply would be like, so we had
to take a variety of colors. (This was pre-the -no-liquid-on-flights life).
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| Channeling Britney- Hoe Toe Young College, 2003. |
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| Training in Cali- 2004 |
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| 2004, morning trip to 7-11 before class |
I met Titus with a smile, as he came to my door with Benjamin
Fabie and Amy Jo Birdsall. (I think Amy was there. I know Fabie was.
My memory betrays me now. We won’t mention our ages…). I thought, “Oh,
this one is kind of cute, but I’m in love with Stephen Jay,” so that was
all that mattered. We were set off on a glorious friendship from that day
forward, where I would immediately be awestruck by the fact that….HOLY CRAP….he
was from AUGUSTA, GA, and went to freaking LAKESIDE HIGH
SCHOOL!!!! (Go Panthers…although
I was the cheerleader…and he was probably not the pep-rally type!) NO
FREAKING WAY???!!! HOW???? God knew what God was doing. Calling me out
of my comfort zone to follow Him to Asia? Sure, but God would give me some
comfort along the way, someone from my very-own hometown to calm my nerves. Mr.
Titus, not-his-real-name, Agrelius. Done.
And honestly, that is what Titus did from day one. Titus
talked me down, off the ledge- HELD ME STRAIGHT, anchored me. Helped me
through my freak-outs, the ones that I have many glorious friends and a husband
to talk me through today… (shout out to Evan Ng, Jennifer Ng, the Chins- The
DoReMe’s). But back then, I didn’t have ALL of those people; my crew was a
little different. God provided me with a myriad of individuals to teach me
about life, model what healthy relationships were like, and help me grow in my
faith. And Titus, well he was a front-runner.
Let’s be honest, I was crazy back then. I’m probably still
crazy by most of your standards, but that is okay because God can use anything
for God’s glory. He even used a donkey, (Numbers 22)…It’s scriptural, so
God could surely use a little girl from Georgia, who had too much hair gel and a
different color nail polish for each day, and Titus, he was right there by her
side, encouraging her, rebuking her when needed, and lifting her up. Being her
friend, a confidant, calling her out at times, pissing her off inevitably, and
then, as well, laughing with her as they talked about fashion and food and
family and their dreams of the future.
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| Great Wall of China, on our way to Tibet, 2005 |
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| Visiting me in Boston, MA while I was in seminary- outside of Cheers, 2005 |
Titus and Megin, they both moved to NYC even….can you believe it? Two kids, who never crossed paths growing up in Augusta, Ga (thanks to the three and half year age difference- I think that’s what it is. I was never great at math), but met through an English Teaching program, and followed God and our misconstrued, at times, yet well-intentioned dreams to NYC. How crazy is that? God knew what God was doing.
Remember my wedding? There weren’t many ‘’white’’
people there. Actually, there weren’t many people there who had known me for
more than the three-going-on-four-years I’d lived in New York City. But
guess who was there?? Titus. Titus was there. In a bow tie. In
the freaking heat. On a farm, in New York City, to watch Megin get married. I cannot
tell you how much that meant to me, to have him there. Him being there made me
feel solid, like somehow my life actually did connect…. During a time when I
felt so alone in the world and confused about what the future would hold, there
was this man, who was a part of my past, as well as someone who was encouraging
me, propelling me, telling me to walk forward into what God had for me, even if
I didn’t know what it would look like….
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| My wedding guests |
Titus always put what was best for me forward and front in
our friendship, which is probably why he was always my best friend and never my
boyfriend. He wouldn’t let it happen. Plenty of boys let friendship with me
devolve into boyfriendness. Not Titus. He sought God….and God didn’t
lead us down that path, though I certainly sought to find my identity in him
and whatever God was going to do with his life. Titus knew better. Titus said,
God is going to get God’s glory and do what is best…and Megin is going to
follow God, not me. Titus was truly a man after God’s own heart, and a man who
was closer than a brother, guarding the heart of a young woman, and propelling
her toward following God, trusting God, wherever that would lead.
And he still does it today. Still. For those of you
who know us, you’ll remember how much I attached myself to Titus, following him
around, us joking, talking incessantly, telling stories, having so much fun.
Jesse and I had Titus over for dinner a few years back. Afterward, I commented
to Jesse, “You didn’t talk much. Why not?” His response? “I didn’t
now where to jump in. The two of you didn’t shut up.” And
that’s the truth. We probably did just talk the entire night without
shutting up, and my poor husband didn’t know where even to jump in, and right
now Amy Jo and Fabie are saying “yup. Sounds about right.”
And then afterward, Titus gave me gifts. HE gave US gifts. He said, Jesse, Eli,
myself (Eden was not yet…).
“You probably don’t
need these things, because goodness knows you have a ton of crap in this
apartment, but I bought these because they reminded me of you,” or
something like that, and I cherish those gifts, and have them hanging on
display in our bedroom at this very moment.
But what Titus gave me that
mattered more, and made a deeper impact, was what he always gave me in our
friendship: the truth. Honesty. Authenticity. And calling me up and
higher…Even if it was hard to hear.
We got together a few days later for lunch at Schnippers,
where we would typically sit for 4 hours and eat our food and then catch up on
our family drama. And Titus told me truths, observations that he had made about
how Jesse and I related, and how we spoke to each other, truths I needed to
hear…. That Jesse needed to hear, that were not easy to hear, but that were real,
and that propelled us further in our relationship to holiness, to God, and to one
another. Titus did what Titus always did… He interceded and pointed me toward
Christ. It was incredible. I couldn’t believe it, but then I could. Because
that’s what God does…He takes care. I was amazed, and so thankful.
So today, I celebrate Titus. Actually….no-take that back. I celebrate
GOD! I celebrate the fact that God gave me a Titus in my life.
How incredible?! I could never repay all the ways he has guided me and mentored
me and supported me….never in a million years. I could never say how much he means
to me, to us, to Jesse and me and our family. I could never say how much Titus
is, in my mind, my family, how much I still attach myself to him, just like I
did back then. Literally like a leach. The poor guy cannot shake me. Like
legit, he cannot get rid of me. It has been seventeen years, and I even got
married, and he can’t get rid of me. That’s hardcore. I hope he doesn’t mind.
And if he does, I’ll probably still stick around, because that’s what I do. And
he’ll roll his eyes. And order a coke. And laugh. And we’ll take sips
together, although I drink diet these days, and obviously out of different cups because Covid. Duh. Sharing a cup would be inappropriate; we can't share a cup- "Oh wait stop- that's inappropriate! Stop being inappropriate you two! What's your problem??! sheesh!" and then start talking about something,
anything, whatever, while everyone else is like oh-em-gee THESE TWO!!"….and the rest will be history.
FOR Glory of God. And Happy Birthday Titus, you are truly a
best friend if there ever was one.
P.S. Don’t read any other parts of my blog because they will probably annoy you as they inevitably talk about things related to politics which I am extremely too hardcore about for your taste I am sure, and upon which you will obviously be much more balanced and God-centered and need to take a step back…. And tell me to CALM THE CRAP DOWN because that is what you do, and I do….and what you’ve done, and I’ve done, from day one, back in Cali, with the suitcase, and the shampoo, and the nail polish, and the discovery, “What?? We’re both from Disgusta, Ga??? And you like What Not To Wear too??? OMGEEEEEEEEE this is going to be an amazing summer, year, life, eternity…..” For the glory of God. TO the glory of God. Peace. Amen. Happy Birthday.
Love,
Megin (and the entire Eng clan).
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How do you do it Mama's? How do you let your babies go and grow? All he did was go to pre-school, and not even for a full year, and not even every day of the week, and I literally feel like they stripped me of my life’s blood. Like seriously… parting with my child, and letting him BE is the.hardest.thing. My gracious goodness. No wonder my parents have health issues. I freaking moved to China, Boston, and then freaking New York City on them. How did they survive that? Cut the cord… we cut the cord, and they’re gone.
Eli’s last day of ‘Owl School’ was today. (Owl School is
what he has called pre-school because his class was called the Owls). He
zoomed with his classmates and the rest of the school, sang songs, ate his
snacks, reminisced. They were all like little grown-ups on those computers.
Apart from the teachers, who are brilliant, I feel like these kids know more
than the rest of us when it comes to how to use devices and programs, zoom,
face-time, google meet, and whatever else it is they are using. They school us… literally
school us, but not just with the electronics, slang, and social media.
Honestly, they school us just by existing.
I suppose Eli learned a great many things in pre-school this
year. As a matter of fact, I know he did. I can name off things he can do now
he couldn’t do before, but I can’t help but think I LEARNED a
great many things by Eli BEING IN pre-school this year. I learned about my
child. I learned about myself. I learned about other people. I learned about
grief and disappointment… I learned about LIFE!
I’m so sad we couldn’t end the year in person with all
our new friends. Children are resilient. He has not complained too much
about the changes he endured. I, on the other hand, have had to sneak to the
corner more than a few times to sniff back my tears because I’m frustrated and
I want MORE for him, want PERFECTION for him. But I guess the truth is, the
fact that they are just going through life with the friendship of adults is what
is growing them. It’s not about the perfect curriculum or atmosphere or classroom
or materials. It’s about investing in these kids’ minds, talking to them like
they matter, like they’re people. I’m not suggesting putting upon them more
than they should handle for their age… please… filter the news… use appropriate
language! (Something with which I struggle), but for goodness sake,
speak to them like humans and not like babies. They are really quite brilliant.
Eli’s teachers at My Little Village gave me so much
confidence this year just through the brief interactions I had with them. I
didn’t get to invest to the degree I would have liked to invest, starting the
year off about 15 months pregnant, and then spending the next few months in the
haze that is the 4th trimester… and then, just as the New Year began
and we’d all settled into our groove, there it was, ripped away from us! Gone.
Just like that. Never to return. Devastation. Grief. Loss. Shock. Is this
really happening? Yes. It is. Yes it did. It happened. And now it’s gone.
So I grieve. I grieve that Owl School didn’t go down the way
I wanted it to go down, but I trust it in the hands of a sovereign and good God
who has provided for us and who certainly blessed us with these people and this
time. And I’m thankful for what I’ve learned, that I can teach my child… that I
can do it… that it doesn’t have to be perfect, and that I can follow his lead
and respond to him. I don’t have to force him into a mold to make him learn a
certain amount. I can nurture and grow what God has put there, cultivate it,
and watch as it yields and bears fruit… to the glory of God. I don’t mean never
challenge, but I think I had a mixed up idea of what it would mean to teach my
child and help him learn… and I really thank the teachers at My Little Village
for reminding me the things I used to know… the ways I used to teach when I taught
children, before they were my own. I guess there is something that happens when
the child becomes one’s own. We freak the crap out and start fearing failure
and that we’ll ruin them, and so we forget everything we’ve ever learned that actually
prepared us to have children in the first place. The only thing that was going
to ruin my kid was me if I didn’t calm the crap down.
So thankfully, thank God, we are good… we are calm. We are
here.. barefoot, wearing Buzz Lightyear, having spent the day flying by the
seat of our pants and playing in the sprinklers at Rainbow Park, and playing
make-believe, watering a garden and watching it grow… playing pirates,
building, caring for Eden, resting, cooking, cleaning, BEING…together, one
jumbled mess. And it has been great. I would not trade it for the world. Happy
Last Day of Owl School little man, and happy first day of whatever we decide to
do next. I cannot wait, and I’m SOO lucky, SOO thankful to be your Mommy. Amen.
Happy 'Nniversary, or as Eli calls it: "HAPPY FAMILY DAY TO ELI AND MOMMY AND OUR ENTIRE FAMILY DAY WITH DADDY AND EDEN DAY."
I have a confession. Two days ago, I was a brat. Jesse hurt my feelings by doing something that he knows hurts me and that I've literally been asking him for 9 years of marriage and three years of dating NOT to do. But he did it, nonetheless, and then defended why it was fine that he did it for a good while. And it hurt, and in my hurt, I just wanted to hurt back, so I told him I didn't want to celebrate our anniversary, that something ALWAYS goes wrong on our anniversary or around it (because honeslty, that's the truth...there is literally ALWAYS something. Any other couples deal with that?) I think it's spiritual warfare... and a product of our own brokenness and need of God's healing work in our heart wounds that we have carried with us into marriage. We are extra vulnerable around this time each year, even if we can't admit it, even if we come across as stone walls, and so we often hurt each other and bicker.
Anyway, I told him that for our anniversary, I just wanted a day off, a day to myself where I wasn't taking care of kids, doing things around the house so that HE could be in ministry, and having to put MY dreams on hold for the sake of our family. (I'm pretty dramatic in my arguments with him, huh?). So in the heat of the moment, I said tomorrow, (i.e. yesterday) would be Mommy and Eli day, to make our cake and put up decorations. Eli then got so excited. Jesse didn't say a word. Or change his facial expression. As usual. We tried to talk later. It was pointless. We weren't hearing each other. Take it to Jesus. We needed more time of not talking before we were ready to listen.
I went to bed not sure what our anniversary would entail, but I woke up blessed. My husband let down some walls and poured out his heart to me in a card. He spoke my language and was humble and repentant. And so then I went to speak with him and be the same. By this point, I'd had my 3 cups of coffee, written my Juneteenth post, and spent some time praying, so the odds were in my favor. I found Jesse playing with Eli and Eden in the kids' room. I asked Eli if he wanted to decorate for the special day, and before I could get out any apologies, Eli said, "yeah but Mommy, this day can't be our special day. We have to include our whole family. Daddy and Eden have to be a part too, so we gotta rename it right? Because we are a family."
You're right kid. You're very right. Just keep on ministering to your parents and parenting us. One day we'll catch on and hopefully offer you something of worth back in return. Happy 'Nniversary to you little man, and to Jesse, and to Eden, and all you folks! Make yours days more than about yourself. That's what I'm trying to do.
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| Image from https://www.facebook.com/vcharliethomas |
Charles Thomas: A Confession of Aggression alluded to Charles's story. I wanted to include his testimony about being an actor while being black to lend credence to my own words but decided against it. Since then, Charles has given me permission to use his story and any that he shares on his Facebook in my writing, and it is with that permission that I come to you this morning. I write not because I need something to fill the blog-o-sphere. Goodness knows I have plenty of pictures of my kids, nephews and nieces, and pets to do just that, and perhaps some of you would prefer to read an uplifting story about how I knitted my dog a bonnet right now. I think we all need something more substantive in these times, however. Thus, I write. Not because I need to be heard, but because there IS a voice that needs to be heard, and I can be a microphone. There are words that have been written, and I can be a white-female-printing press. Some have preferred not listen to my opinion about black rights, black lives, and black experience; heralding, let the black man, the black woman speak for herself! I get it. I'm not black, and pointing that out gives my reader a chance to deflect from the stinging truth of what I preach. So I challenge my readers, the majority of whom are not black, to remember that exact argument as they preach: LET THE BLACK MAN...THE BLACK WOMAN SPEAK! And then quiet themselves and LISTEN to a voice other than the one in their heads since THEY are not black either.
If we are not black, we do not have the PRIVILEGE of editing the black narrative. White men and women are not allowed to say which parts of the black man and the black woman's experience are valid or not valid, or when there experiences are valid and not valid. Those rights have never belonged to us even when we have taken them, and they will never belong to us, no matter how hard we fight to keep them. They never were ours. They never will be ours. Our PRIVILEGE is to listen and learn what it is to be BLACK. ONLY after we have done that, should we even attempt to respond with reflections of what it means to be white or anything else, but I will venture to say this... we are wasting our time when we think we must educate the black man or black woman on what it means to be white. Trust me. They know. They've been living behind the stage of our lives for the entirety of their own.
Charles's Confessions:
On being both black and an actor since 2001:
I’ve been told I couldn’t get a role because the community would have a problem with interracial relationship on stage.
I’ve been told I couldn’t be in the show because no other Black people showed up, and it wouldn’t make sense with the characters being related.
I’ve been told, “But you’re one of our Black actors” when auditioning at another theater.
Been called to be in a musical to play “the black parts” but wasn’t asked to audition or considered for main roles.
In my 18-ish years of acting, I’ve played monkeys, donkeys, a slave, a servant, a janitor, a hobo, numerous sidekicks, and various “minority” characters.
I’ve been told so many times that I’m in a cast to “diversify”, or to “fill in a space”, that I truly doubt my own talent and abilities when cast in shows.
I’ve been told “If you’re not in it, how will Black kids see themselves?”
I’ve been told my choices have been “sassy” and “urban”. I’ve had acting choices completely taken from me while my fellow cast-mates enjoyed free reign, even taking some more “ethnic” choices.
I’ve heard “It’s for the Black people” yelled during lighting more than once.
I’ve been told “I’m not Black enough” more than once for roles.
Been confused with numerous fellow Black actors, called by their names by my own coworkers, and congratulated for shows I haven’t done.
I’ve had people tell me, “You brought a hip-hop flavor to Shakespeare”
I’ve heard “Who would believe you could be...”
Some have told me “I thought your voice would have more soul”
And I’ve heard “You’ll be successful as a Black actor”
Charles' Voice:
Ok, I'll bite.
*inhale*
However.
I have lived in 'White spaces" most of my life. Advanced classes that had mostly whites in them. Theatre where white people did everything around me. Churches that were multiracial, but mostly white. All-White families have treated me as their own. My best friends are 90% White, and I love them all dearly. I have loved, cared, helped, supported, and treated everyone equally, despite any kind of differences.
So I get mad, hurt, upset, angry, and bitter when I've lived my entire life as someone in your space, but you can't understand why people who look and act like me are still rowdy. It's not a two week process. This didn't start last month. Those closet to me know this. And yet I still have relationships that don't get it.
Many loved ones who haven't even contacted or checked on me.
I've seen it your way my entire life, and have managed to keep myself in the midst of it all. Fought fights alongside you. Celebrated your wins, cried your losses. I'm asking for the same. If you can't give me that--if you constantly ask for receipts, circumstances, grievances--then I can't give you anymore. My life shared with you should have been enough.
(Emphasis added by Megin, a white woman, not because Charles's words need editing, but because I read them and hear his heart, by the grace of God, and I fear it is just that, a grace that many will not be afforded...Come Lord Jesus...help us hear him and all our black brothers and sisters of the human race...)
Evan and Jenn: Where do I even start? I just love these two. Literally, I love them. I couldn’t love them more. If I try to quantify how much I love them... wait, I’m going to stop writing the word love because Evan is literally reading this right now and mockingly saying “she luhhhves us” as he reads it since I used the word love four, five, no six times already. But seriously, I cannot even stop with them. Where would Jesse and I be without these two? Legit, they are liken to be our soul mates… if marriages can have those. I told Jenn a long time ago that she had to marry Evan if I was going to marry Jesse, that I could not do this alone; we had to be in it together. I joked. But did I? Not really! I wanted to have a best friend for life, and we helped each other as we navigated what it meant to date boys, love men, who were Asian-American when we were not. It didn’t matter that I was an anglo-girl from Georgia and Jenn was a Dominican-girl from New York City; we might as well have been exactly the same person when it came to figuring out how to date these guys whose idea of a great date was coming over to take naps on our couches or open up a box of basketball cards, (freeze frame on OMGmichaeljordan)
Evan and Jenn have been through the trenches with us. Seriously, this ride has been a crazy mess at times, and they have stuck it out. They’ve committed themselves to hunker down and pursue something bigger than the ‘’American-dream.” They didn’t have to move to the Lower East Side, Manhattan. They didn’t have to stay with all of us at this church during a difficult season. They didn’t have to do any of the things they’ve done. They’ve sought God and followed God’s call on their lives, even when it has been hard. They’ve put God first, let Christ increase, even when it meant they decreased. They’ll say they are blessed, and I’m sure they are, but they are also a blessing… and have given much. This doesn’t go unnoticed, at least by us.
Evan and I once made up a song on the spot in a toy store somewhere around Gloucester, Massachusetts. That was a prelude to the Sundays we’d spend on praise team, him trying to figure out how to play some version of a mashed-up praise set that I’d transposed into five different keys and modulated to just the right spot where I felt it would awaken the souls of the congregation as they sang it. Shane and Shane added to a conglomeration of the RUF songbook mixed with Keith and Kristen Getty to purify the Hillsong, and we were on our way. Except for the bar chords. “Hold on- where’s the capo? And are you asking me to switch the tempo? What do you mean by time signature? SPEAK ENGLISH PLEASE,” he probably wanted to scream at me. As well as “Why are we randomly singing Away in a Manger right now?”
I digress. My point is, these two have put up with us…
with Jesse and me figuring out what it means to be in ministry, for better or
worse, a marriage of friendship. They’ve dealt with us disappointing them,
throwing them under the bus, learning as we go along, and modeling a heck of a
lot of mess. And they’ve accepted us and loved us through it all. I joke that I
want Eden to marry their son… so we can create a new race- a mixture of Hispanic/Anglo/Asian/Black/White/Yellow
let’s see what we can come up with if we shake all this up. I bet it will be
incredible! Jesse says that it is not allowed though because Eden and Micah are
going to grow up like cousins. I think Jesse’s just already getting a little protective
over his baby girl already, because we have been talking about this from day one.
This is not brand-new information.
I digress again. What is my point? Why am I
writing all this? Because these two are too good not to be lifted higher,
although they will probably not want the attention. I don’t imagine that I have
some type of wide fan-base here, but to whoever reads what I write, I would be
doing you a disservice if I didn’t introduce you to my friends and let you
listen to what they have to say. They are far more particular with words than
am I. They are specific, a talent that tangles me. They are thorough. They are
more than adequate, more than enough, and beautifully displayed in their
vulnerabilities. So, without further ado, listen to them, hear them. READ
them … take.them.in. There is much to be learned for the Kingdom of Heaven,
much wisdom to be gleaned from their testimony of truth. The Reynoso Ng
family takes us to school and to church all at once.
Evan's Poem:
Please don't tell them how to protest
When you haven't lived their pain
Please don't tell them just be peaceful
When George was murdered without shame
Please don't focus on the riots
And only talk about the looting
When you know that you've been silent
Every time there's been a shooting
Please admit there's still a problem
When you say it's not all cops
Derek Chauvin is a symptom
Of a system full of rot
Please take the time to listen
To our brethren when they speak
We need to hear the victims
If it's justice that we seek
This message is intended for people who don’t identify as black.
This is also probably the most you’ve ever heard from me in your life, so read
slow.
I am done with the constant cycle of grieving, lamenting, and
being frustrated and angry. It is exhausting. It is exhausting trying to
convince others that this is their fight too, so over the years I’ve mostly
kept silent and removed myself from spaces and conversations where people have
been defensive, combative, or think that this isn’t their problem or it’s too
big a problem to solve, or move on as if nothing ever happened.
As we passed the peak of coronavirus, I remember thinking I
didn’t want things to open up and “go back to normal”. If this virus has shown
us anything, it’s that normal never worked. Certainly not for the poor and
people of color. The highest death rates from the virus are in the poorest and
black neighborhoods.
So we have an opportunity here. In order for change to come we
have to do more than just express our sadness or disbelief and say we stand
with black folks. We need people to act. This will look different for everyone,
but this is what it looks like for me:
I am no longer going to tolerate your presence or carry on with
small talk/pretend like nothing is going on if you do not understand how this
is your problem too and are actively taking some steps to change it. It is
personally damaging to my soul and this is the very thing that allows racism to
continue to infiltrate all our systems - not just the justice system, but
healthcare, education, housing, EVERYTHING. There is not one system that this
country has in place that is not somehow upholding white supremacy in our
society. Churches included.
I’ve tried being patient and understanding, and it hasn’t gotten
us anywhere. If you don’t understand why it’s your problem too, I won’t judge
you right now. But I am asking you to do the work to figure it out. I cannot
get you there, so do not ask me. There are plenty of non-black people that are
posting and vocal about this, you can ask them. There are tons of resources
that people are sharing online, tons of documentaries on netflix, plenty of
books. They’re not hard to find, I promise.
I am also committing to evaluate my life and challenge the ways
anti-blackness shows up. Both of my cultures, Dominican and American, are
extremely anti-black and I’ve had a lot of unlearning and unpacking to do over
the last few years. I am going to call it out in myself and in others when I
see it. I can’t think of one culture that isn’t affected by this, many of us
don’t realize how much of our “preferences” and “opinions” are rooted in
anti-blackness. I challenge you to think about how that shows up for you in
your life.
I am committing to using my time, resources, and energy from
here on out to things that advance the cause. This means I’m not going to argue
with you whether or not it’s ok to protest or if the system is really racist,
etc. There’s too much to do and too much at stake for that nonsense. I am going
to reflect, write, donate, call whoever I need to call. And if I can I’ll walk
& protest alongside my brothers and sisters.
I will pray, but I’m not praying for peace. I’m praying for
justice to come at all costs. And while I’m not promoting senseless violence, I
do think that black people have every right to burn this country to the ground,
a country that was built for free on the backs of their ancestors. Let that
sink in. They have the power to do it, but they haven’t yet and honestly they
aren’t even the ones starting most of these riots and fires we’re seeing. Pay
attention to that.
I hope you will engage and push past whatever discomfort you’re feeling. I hope to be able to see you on the other side standing with me. But until then, I will consider you to be on the side of keeping the status quo, which is the same as being on the side of the oppressor.
Eden Girl! Little Girl has developed such a personality of her own. She's also teething like a beast. Eli did NOT get all of his teeth at one time. As well, he cried on a fairly regular basis, so I don't recall him being particularly fussy when he teethed. Eden, however, is perfectly delighted 99.9% of the time; thus, when she is teething, everyone knows it. I have one drama-boy. I suppose she will be my drama-girl, although I believe she will be markedly more laid back than her big brother.
Eden is obsessed with eating my necklaces and earrings, and basically everything. Our desk currently has Eden teeth marks all over it. When we moved, I was excited to get a new desk that would be void of all Jirem's and Abraham's chewing and clawing marks from over the years....our beautiful new Threshold studio Windham desk from Target lasted us about 2 years before Eden laid her claim. I guess we at least traded up in terms of the type of creature causing chew marks on our stuff.
I digress.
I decided to save my necklace from eventual breakage, (it already broke once and is currently being held together by a thread...literally), and find something to wear for her to sink her teeth into that wouldn't break as easily. Cue a reason to shop on Esty, one of my favorite places on the internet. I realize the amount of money I pour into small businesses is bordering upon sinful. I rationalize thinking that one day I will solicit help from others to promote a small business myself is...perhaps this blog (anyone wanna help me figure out how to make money from it??)! For now, I just cause my husband to lower his eyes, place his forehand to his brow, and shake his smooth-bald head, which I love, asking "what did we order this time?" (In his half stern-half amused-rolling with the materialistic punches Jesse-voice). It's our daily mailbox ritual. (Well, maybe not DAILY...just...frequent. We are also on a first-name-basis with the UPS guy...so there's that). I'd heard of these silicone teething necklaces before, but I hadn't actually looked into getting one. Now I had a reason! :) So I ordered one for me to wear and one for Eden to wear (with supervision. Calm down Buffie, both set of grandparents and Aunt Bessie). It seemed like it took FOR-EV-ER for them to arrive. I waited, patiently, reminding Jesse to check the mail each evening when he took Jirem out for a walk...Him saying "what have we ordered?" Me saying, "nothing. Just reminding you. 😁" Him knowing I was lying through my big fat pink smile...
And last night-WOOHOO!! They arrived. So this morning, they were cleaned and worn, and Eden Girl LOVES them. Completely adores them. And my regular necklace can be worn in peace, left alone, by her grubby little babyfood-gerber-puff hands. Sweet child of mine. I love her so dearly, and don't we look adorable in our little necklaces! Thank you Jesus for this sweet gift...(and thank you Jesse...and the nice Esty lady).
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| Mama sometime in the 80's |
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| Eli's Truck-Tastic 3rd Birthday |
Sit around. Play with kids. Try to be productive in there. Try to teach Eli while he plays.
Kids crawl all under table to me when I attempt to do something not child-centered.
it's time for a nap. Eli asks for snacks.
We just ate lunch. He didn't finish his lunch. But he doesn't want lunch.
He wants snacks.
He's only hungry for snacks. He can't eat anymore lunch.
His tummy doesn't work that way.
Blessed. I am blessed.
Thank You God for my babies.
.amen.
I thought I saw my sister, who, a few months before I got married,
emailed me to ask me if I was sure I wanted to do it, to marry Jesse. I was
infuriated. She never trusted me. She never saw me. Did she really think I’d
marry an asshole? (No she didn’t call him that. That was my dramatic reaction
in my head). What I didn’t see was a sister who had only met my fiancé 3 times,
and who each time she met him, met a very untalkative and, well some could have
called him stoic, young man, who lived a thousand miles away from her and was potentially
going to solidify her little sister living 1000 miles away from the family for the rest of her life. I didn’t see the sister who just wanted to know better our relationship
and Jesse. I didn’t see my sister who, after I wrote out about a 15 page thesis
explaining why she should trust me, and that Jesse was the right guy for me, said “Okay.
I believe you. I trust you. I just wanted to make sure. This helps me feel a
little better.” She just loved me. She didn’t hate Jesse. She didn’t not trust
me. She just loved me….she WAS just loving me. 
My sister has often waited, years, for others to realize
things she has already realized, for others to see that to which God has opened her
eyes. She's had to. She's the oldest, by 7.5 years to me, and 12 to my brother. She has waited in tears, in frustration, and patiently. I thank God He
gave her a husband who saw her long before I ever saw her. I thank God he gave
her friends who saw her when her family did not. 
There were so many years I thought I saw my sister. There were so many years I didn’t see my sister, years I
wish I could re-live and re-look. There are so many memories I didn’t see through my sister’s
eyes, memories that, thank God, He is redeeming. I am so grateful God gave me a
sister, and that she knows the grace of God. Where would I be without her? I honestly don’t know, but I wouldn’t be
here, and I wouldn’t be me…. I wouldn’t be me at all, without her. I wasn't alone. She was with me, even though I wouldn't let her in.
I love YOU my sister so much. You can literally drive me up the
wall. I despise that you like Donald Trump, and I still laugh at the way you say the word “eat,” (You say ‘’eant.” You do. Just ask Siri), but you literally possesses every
quality that when I look at myself, I wish that I had, and I guess that makes
sense, actually, because God made us sisters, so different, so that we could
together, be whole. 
If you don’t know my sister, you are truly missing out. I
missed out for a long time, but God restores lost years. If you ever meet my sister,
she will talk to you a lot; you’ll probably have to make up an excuse to get
her to stop talking to you so that you can go pee or get something to eat, but she won’t
mind. She knows she likes to talk. She’ll just be thankful you spent time in conversation
with her. She’ll enjoy it. She’ll enjoy you. And she won’t hold it against you
if you don’t see her. She’ll be patient with you and trust God... And then one
day, while she’s talking, and you’re holding your pee, everything will click,
and you’ll see HER, this beautiful gem, this creation of God, and you’ll bask
in her uniqueness, and you’ll thank God for her, and it will be amazing. 
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