Embarrassed

I got to eat Tony Roma’s ribs for the first time in Hong Kong last night. It was a pretty good experience with the exception of being told by our waitress that we had to leave to make room for more customers. Ah, such is life in busy HK. The time with Tim and Cindy was excellent; we are blessed to be able to share in the joys of family and ministry together with them and little Lillian.

We took the MTR (subway) across the Harbour last night because daddy didn’t want to pay for an expensive taxi. The MTR is pretty mindless; you get on, wait for your stop, change trains if necessary and move on. It’s not hard. Last night was very hard.

There was a man that got on with us that was struggling. He had a cast on his right leg that required use of a cane and was trying desperately to maneuver luggage at the same time. I couldn’t help but look at him with pity. As we got off to switch lines, he got off with us and a thousand other people. Again, we ended up in the same car. Again, I looked on with pity.

Upon our arrival in Tsim Tsha Tsui I had a sleeping daughter, a full bladder and a man that clearly needed help. Melissa commented to me that we should do something as we got off. I looked at her and agreed as I kept walking and watching him struggle to get on the escalator. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to help, I was too afraid to. I wish I knew why, but I just watched. Thankfully, others that were closer to him did help him up the stairs, and he made it to the exit level and the dreaded turnstiles.

There was no way he was going to be able to get himself and his luggage through a very narrow opening. Convicted of my earlier inaction I rushed to lift his stuff over the gate and let him go on his way. He thanked me with one of the most sincere faces I’ve seen. He seemed genuinely surprised that someone helped.

Once on his way and us on our way I thought I would feel like I had done my part. Remember, I did have Isabella with me and she needed to get to bed, it was way past her bedtime. The thing is I felt worse. I felt (and still feel) as though I had turned my back on Christ blatantly disobeying the command to love my neighbour. As we got outside, Melissa looked at me and commented that she wished we would have offered to go with the man to wherever he needed to go. We had nothing that should’ve kept us from that. Isabella would have survived and so would my bladder.

I agreed with her and still do. I cannot get past the fact that I merely acted with the least possible effort. The thought didn’t even enter my mind to go with him until long after the fact. I was too busy wrapped up in my own little world. I missed a valuable chance to love someone because I didn’t want to see what was going on around me. I had my “Christian” blinders on.

I couldn’t help but spend some time this morning meditating on Matthew 25:31-45. I did/didn’t do it to HIM. This is one of my favourite times of year because of the vivid reminder to live in expectation of the return of our King. As I prepare for our first Christmas with Isabella, my heart is broken by what I saw as I looked in the mirror. I saw a man that stopped short; sure I helped him, but I didn’t serve Him in love.

I know this is a bit of a downer considering it’s Christmas Eve, but it doesn’t have to be. I failed. I know this and because of the gracious gift of God through Jesus, I have been forgiven. But I hope that forgiveness won’t be enough. I hope that last night will be a watershed event in my life. I want my eyes to be open to the hurting world and I pray that with the strength of my Father, I will have the courage to get past myself and ACT. I pray that I will be an example of loving devotion to my King that my daughter, and our world needs. May we all celebrate the birth of our King with our hearts ready to love as He loved us.

words

Last night was another expected night of tennis with the guys (Chinese). I hadn't been able to play with them for well over a month and it was time. Unbeknownst to me, only one other man would be able to play.
So there I was with Michael and two hours worth of tennis paid for. Michael speaks very little English and I speak even less Cantonese. While the tennis would be fine, how would we communicate? These questions continued throughout our warm-up. It was time to play. As we began, something funny happened; words seemed much less significant to enjoying our time together. This went way beyond just playing tennis. As I watched Michael, his spirit was one that I don't often see. Michael carries himself with a sense of peace and joy that my words don't adequately express.
I don't know much about him but I will always respect Michael. It was a pleasure to spend two hours with him last night. His spirit and attitude were made more refreshing because they shone through in a city that tells you to do whatever it takes to get ahead. Michael is one of those people that you want to be with hoping that their love of life (and maybe of Christ) will help you live life that fully. He inspired me. He made me so conscious of my attitude that I have been convicted of it all day.
From a tennis perspective, we had some fun. In time, I suspect I will forget the tennis played last night. I hope I never cease to be inspired by the attitude of joy demonstrated on that court.

Go yanks!

I imagine writing this post may make me a bit unpopular, esp. to all my MN friends, but it's such great news how could I not write about it?
The New York Yankees signed the only Boston Red Sox player I have ever liked today. His name: Johnny Damon. This guy is amazing; he works hard, has a good attitude (seemingly), hustles, and hits leadoff while playing a mean center field. The best part is, he was the heart and soul of the Red Sox and now the Yanks have him! I won't call it as significant as the curse of the Bambino, but it's a big move!
The hard part about finding out was that I had no one to share it with. I looked around Hong Kong and I didn't see anyone that cared. I know when I get home Melissa will feign excitement because she loves me, but we both know she's not going to do the famous dance of joy. There are certain parts of cross cultural living that don't quite compare. Hong Kong has the Rugby 7's, but I'm not gonna get nearly as excited about that as I will when the Yanks bring the Pennant back home. Todd, if you're reading this, GO YANKS!!!

brownies

Last week we were given a simple and most amazing gift: a small, countertop oven. It's nothing fancy, and it makes our tiny kitchen feel even smaller but we love it. I tasted a homemade brownie for the first time in 6+ months this weekend, and the bliss was undescribable. We've since had two meals that didn't require a wok or skillet. I even cleaned up our kitchen without having to deal with any oil splatters or pans that didn't fit in the sink. It's been a great couple of days.
I keep thinking that I am supposed to turn this into some deep revelation about our new lives in Hong Kong. I'm not going to do that today. The simple, chewy goodness of a brownie is enough.

Prince CTS Lightning

Melissa and I headed to our local Salvation Army yesterday (I'm amazed at where you can find those shops!). Our mission was to find a small space heater for our living/dining room. I am proud to report that we were successful thanks to Sharon, our Senior Pastor's wife.

One would think that finding a heater for cheap would have been the highlight of my sojourn to Salvation Army. Think again. Sitting so beautifully in a stash of old beat up tennis racquets were two Prince CTS Lightning 90's circa 1989. I understand that finding 16 year old tennis racquets isn't on the radar of most sane people. But for a mere $60 Hong Kong (about $8 US) I was able to buy back a sweet memory of my youth. You see, these racquets were the first quality, brand new racquets I ever got. I will never forget opening my first one for Christmas; what a day!

Over time I accumulated a few more of the prized Lightning's and still lament the day that I made a switch and began learning the hard lesson that new isn't always better. Come to think of it, I have to learn that lesson on a regular basis (I'm thinking of the 4 PDA's I've gone through over the past few years).

My question is this. What makes me so nostalgic over a couple of old tennis racquets? I played with them last night and realized how heavy and antiquated they were but I couldn't put them down. Why?

I think I am so focused on moving forward that I rarely make the effort to slow down, look back, and reflect. My daughter reminds me of that each day as she changes so quickly. I don't believe that moving forward is a bad thing most of the time. But it sometimes comes with a cost. Much of my life has been spent pushing to move ahead. In retrospect I see that slowing down and pressing on would have almost always been a much keener decision.

My plan is to keep the old relics in my tennis bag. I doubt I'll use them very often and that's okay. Those racquets aren't valuable because of how great they are now (I've got better ones), their value comes in the truth that it's okay to slow down, look back, and consider what I've learned along the way.