Cooking + Feeding of Our Souls

photo-1441122365457-1ae2aba6235cA couple of weeks ago I stepped down as an associate pastor at our church to prepare for our move out of state. It’s the first time being a full-time stay-at-home mom with no meetings to attend, no sermons to prep, no ministry or work obligations whatsoever. So how do I fill up this new space in my life? I cook. Instead of prepping for Sunday services, I plan for meals. Instead of having coffee dates with people, I shop for groceries with the intent of filling my family’s bellies and our fridge to bursting. I am becoming my mother, and I can’t help it…

Join me over at The Mudroom to read the rest, and if you’re curious about how to start creating community through the art of feeding one another, email me to hear about how supper club did that for me!

Passing on the Baton

http://spokenforblog.com/passing-on-the-baton/My friends and I have been talking about how we are officially adults. We’re in our mid-30s, we’re moms of multiple kids, we’ve accumulated bags under our eyes, and we’re no longer referred to as “miss” but “ma’am.” We used to think we were young adults, but somewhere along the way we stumbled into real, grown-up adulthood. Those in their teens and 20s look to us as older and wiser. How in the world did we get so old?! I have no idea, but it is humbling, sobering, and so, so good…

My friend Amanda started a blog for her Spoken For shop, and I have the privilege of working alongside her and being part of the writing team. Today I’m writing about passing on the baton of leadership from our generation to the next. 

Always a Foreigner, Never Home

13324282_10154288765190159_1900862299_oMy face is the filter through which people see me. It can’t be helped. When people look at me, they see an Asian girl. To some, it’s the face of familiarity, but to most it’s the face of a foreigner. It creates distance, division, and tension. It brings up questions of heritage and place and home. It stirs mixed feelings of embarrassment, being respected, kindredness, shame. I wish I could be seen without the filter of my face, without the filter of what my face represents, but it’s not that simple. I understand why I’m asked where I’m from- no, where I’m really from- because sometimes even I forget who I am. At work, at Christian conferences, at gatherings, I’m often the token Asian among mostly white people. When I look at myself in the mirror during a bathroom break, I’m shocked at the face looking back at me. I look so… Asian. So un-white. So foreign. Why is my face so round and flat? Why are my eyes so small?? God! You could’ve at least given me double eyelids! I’m ashamed of what I see because what I really want is to look just like everyone else…

This month at The Mudroom, they’ve invited only women of color to submit their stories on race, culture, and identity. It’s not an easy topic to write on or to read, but they’ve created a safe space to listen with openness and respond with love, and I’m so grateful I get to share in that space today. Go to The Mudroom blog to read the rest!