The Girl Who Couldn't Take a Compliment

September 1975, Lewis, Indiana.  I just turned 14, had arrived from Korea where my parents worked as missionaries, just one month before.  It had been five years since I had last been to the US, and though it was my home country it didn't feel anything like home to me. I was starting 9th grade knowing absolutely no one and I was terrified.

Day one, my dad drives me to Craig Jr. High, a modern (for that time) building all shiny and new.  I walked into my home room class filled with beautiful, fashionably dressed white kids with blond hair and smooth complexions.  I was the little half-Filipino girl with weird clothes that had been bought at the Korean market, with a hair-cut done by her mom, no make-up, no jewelry, no friends.  People stared, but worse that anything were the monstrous thoughts that filled my head.  I was certain that everyone hated me, that every laugh or muffled conversation was about me, that I was a freak.  I sank into my seat not wanting to be seen,  not knowing that my paranoid behavior made me look even stranger to their curious eyes.

I prayed that I would die right then and there.  I prayed that Jesus would return, that the earth would be destroyed and I would be spared this unbearable misery.  It didn't help that when I went home and cried my eyes out to my mom in shame that she just told me what she always said since I was little "But you're such a pretty girl!"  I knew that I was anything but.  The thought of fitting in and looking like the rest of them just wasn't possible. Make-up was forbidden and my mom was convinced that the price of American clothes was ridiculously high, that pierced ears were for "barbarians" and that I was just fine the way I was.  I cried after school every single day for the first five months, much to the distress of my mother who couldn't console me.

The trauma of that year marked with self-hatred and humiliating experiences stuck with me for decades, literally.  Moving back to my old school and being with old friends in Korea didn't make those negative spirits vanish, they just hovered, whispering in my ears, smothering my sense of self-worth.  And so I did what I now know has become the most common and safest defense mechanism of all self-conscious girls.  It's the "I'm-too-intelligent-to-care-about-looks-you-superficial-egotistical-jerks Syndrome."

I decided that I liked just wearing plain jeans and my brother's hand-me-down clothes, that pretty girls were probably brainless snobs, and that wanting to be feminine was an insult to my intelligence.  People would have to like me for who I was, not what I looked like, and I wasn't about to bow to the dictates of the fashion world.  I would dress the way I felt.  Sloppy, unfeminine, bland.

I convinced myself that I wore what I liked, but it didn't stop me from hating what I saw in the mirror.  I secretly envied girls who looked better than myself and wished I could have their figures/wardrobe/skin/hair/make-up/sense of style/confidence. But if anyone would try to offer help or a suggestion that I should change my appearance, I was up in arms, offended that they would dare imply that I was not happy with the way I was.  My superior intellect transcended the shallowness of society's obsession with physical beauty - so I thought.  If anyone tried to compliment me and tell me I was pretty, I was also insulted. They were being condescending and implying that I needed some lame encouragement to feel better about myself.  I felt just fine, thank you, how dare you treat me like I need your compliments!  How I could be so insecure and so arrogant at the same time, I have no idea.

How I became totally secure in my sense of self-worth and beauty and lost all traces of arrogance, is a chapter that will never be written.  Overcoming all of this is still a work in progress and I have to admit those thoughts still attack me, sometimes daily.  But things most definitely have changed.  But I have written too much for one post, stay tuned for part II....

A Slightly Skewed Thanksgiving?

Had a nice Thanksgiving?  Did you go around the table as a lot of families do to say what you've been thankful for this year?  We could all benefit from more gratefulness and awareness that all we have is because of God's mercy and love for us.  But something slightly skewed can come out of this as well.

I was looking through Christian videos about Thanksgiving and saw a common assumption, that being content with what we have is always good, while being dissatisfied is always wrong.  If that were true, there would be no Thanksgiving to begin with.  Imagine the pilgrims being satisfied with the persecution of their faith, with the inability to worship God freely.  Imagine the colonists being satisfied with the oppression of the British crown that only wanted to tax, extort and control them and even massacre them when they resisted. There's a time when being content is very, very wrong.

I am so thankful for this beautiful country where we live, and for all the abundant blessings that we have.  But the abundance came through sacrifice, through the shedding of blood, through freezing winters, ragged armies, and moments when hope was almost snuffed out, all for the cause of the freedom they believed in.  When you've fought, bled and sacrificed for what you know God has promised you, the blessings that follow are more precious than anything else.  They stand as a reminder of God's faithfulness, and in an amazing way they continue to multiply and bless everyone around you for years to come.

Now's our chance to sacrifice.  Is there anything you're willing to bleed for?  Campaign of Israel: www.SucceedinLife.org

Chasing the Master

We saw Nubs the Dog on the Leno Show, and my husband, being a dog lover was enthralled by his story.  It was an inspiring story of loyalty and perseverance, but I only really got it when I heard Dave preach about it on Wednesday night.  It hit me hard and painted a picture in my mind so vivid that I don't believe I'll ever forget it.

A wild dog surviving in the deserts of Iraq, fighting and scavenging with the other packs of ferocious dogs that inhabit his territory.  An Iraqi soldier decides to capture him to turn him into a fighting dog to gamble with and slices off his ears.  He's starved and sent into a ring of other snarling half-crazed dogs to fight for his life so that a few bored men can get a laugh and steal each other's money.  He ends up stabbed with a screw-driver and left for dead.  And he comes across a US Marine camp with the first friendly voices he has ever heard.

That in a nutshell was the life story of Nubs the dog - Nubs the name given to him by Maj. Brian Dennis who saw something good in this brute.  In time the marine befriends him, and when he sees the gaping wound on his side, administers first aid the best he can, and sees him survive the night.  But weeks later the soldiers receive orders to pack and travel 75 miles through the desert to set up a new camp.  They drive off in their Humvees and watch Nubs chasing their convoy as far as he can before he turns into a small speck on the desert landscape.  Two mornings later, who should appear at the marine Major's tent flap, but Nubs the dog.  He had traveled that entire distance in 18 degree weather to stay close to the one man who cared about his life.  He wasn't about to let distance or difficulty stop him.

Long story short, Major Dennis raised $5000 through emailing friends and was able to send Nubs home to sunny California, enjoying the beaches of San Diego and eating dog chow for the rest of his life.  Sweet story, but as I listened to Dave preach, I heard so much more.

Working in the US, one of the most common things to hear are people complain about God not being fast enough, not caring, not answering the way they think He ought to.  I can't count how many have come to God, to church, seen huge changes and then gave up on God and church when other obstacles came along, and those huge changes just faded away.  No one knows what faithfulness and trust is anymore.  The services are too long, the prayers don't sound just right, the music isn't my style, the building's too far away, no body pays attention to me, too many people pay attention to me, I just don't feel like believing any more.  Sickening but it's the reality of the American Christian today.

Nubs had no reason to trust any human being.  He had no reason to be faithful or loving to any creature at all.  He had been cut, bruised, wounded, abandoned and left for dead, yet he chose to love and sacrifice himself to find the one he believed in.  He chased after the master that he chose, and now is secure in a happy home.  How badly do we really want God?  How eager are we to chase after Him?  How willing are we to forget all the horrible things in our past and just keep our eyes glued to God?

More than ever before, I want to chase down and pursue my Master until the end of my days.  Who thought that a wild Iraqi dog could teach me how to honor and sacrifice to God?  But then again, wasn't it Jesus who called a woman of faith a little dog one day?

Adoption - When to Let Them Know

Ligia asked me a question a few weeks back about when to tell an adopted child the truth about their origins.  I know quite a few adoptive families, grew up among some, and know some now.  I've seen parents who have tried different methods of dealing with the subject, but the families that I saw with the happiest, most well-adjusted children were those that were completely honest from the beginning.

This is what I witnessed growing up as a missionary's daughter in Korea, where a number of other American missionaries had adopted either Korean or American babies.  From what I remember, they treated the fact that they were adopted as a wonderful, beautiful experience that made those children uniquely special.  My mother explained it to me so eloquently about how special a child is who has been specifically chosen by his or her adoptive parents because they were loved and wanted, yet many children who are born into families are not always loved.  Her explanation even made the little 5 year-old me feel jealous and wish I had been adopted too.  I was so disappointed that I wasn't!

Those parents who took orphans into their households, were proud to tell their little ones from the time they could understand, what a blessed day it was when they brought them home from the orphanage, and when they joined their family.  They never lied or pretended that they were their biological parents, and never once implied that there was anything wrong with being adopted, which of course there isn't!  They didn't raise them to feel pity or shame for their past, just to know the truth, and the most important truth was that they were just as loved and as precious as the rest of their biological children.

Hiding the truth and pretending only makes it worse when they do find out, because: 1. They will never fully trust that you are telling the truth about anything.  2.  They will feel that you think their past is something shameful which could lead to a lot of resentment and insecurity.  3.  They will see you as weak because you didn't have the courage to do what was right from the start.

If God asks us never to "bear false witness" in the 10 commandments, why should we do it to the children we have chosen to love?  

Washing their mouths out with soap

When I was little, the only bad words that I knew about were "dumb," "stupid," "shut-up," "darn" and "heck".  Hearing someone say any of these words were enough for me to gasp, and urgently whisper to my mother, "She said a bad word!"  Once when a boy in 4th grade thought he would educate me in the REAL bad words, and I laughed at the silly sounds he made.  I told him that my mom had taught me all the bad words there were and if there were other ones, she surely would have told me!

Thank goodness my mom left me in a world of innocence for as long as she could when it came to cursing, and until today I feel a bit guilty using any of those five originally "forbidden" words and rarely do, if at all.  But life today is different, even in Christian homes.  TV permits a lot of swearing and filthy language, even children's films boost their ratings to PG by adding a few expletives, and parents in general feel that keeping their kid's mouths clean is a losing battle, so let them say what they want.  Parents can't resist letting one slip every now and then, so why should they enforce something they can't even follow?

What's wrong with filthy language, and who says it's filthy in the first place?  The Bible says there should be no obscenity, foolish talk or coarse joking, (Eph 5:4) and that an immoral person is the same as an idolater, meaning they are worshipping what is evil.  That's pretty heavy stuff considering how common these words have become.  That means that if we allow ourselves, and our children to speak in this manner, we are opening them up to a very evil spiritual world.

Telling your kids not to say bad words just because they are bad or rude, is not enough.  Parents first have to understand how destructive evil speech can be to their entire home.  There is a spirit behind all we say and confess, and we have to be the guardians of that entryway.

I have a no-tolerance policy for my kids when it comes to profanity, and I know they will never hear me use it myself.  When they first heard the words on television as toddlers and repeated them, I strongly told them that they were unacceptable and they would be spanked (I know, call CPS...) if they ever repeated them again.  Of course they had to test the boundaries and did repeat them and got a swift and painful reminder that they were NEVER to say that!  It didn't take long before the whole issue was settled, and I never had a problem with them again.

I can just hear the complaints, "You're so mean!"  If you call aggressively protecting my family from a spirit of rebelliousness, hatred and curses as being mean, then I guess I am - mean against spiritual forces that would love to tear us apart.  There are many ways that evil can infiltrate our homes and lives, and being vigilant in this area, is just one way to block the harm it wants to do.

Curses are not just medieval superstition, but are making their way into families every day, by the choices we make to ignore God's Word.  We can so easily replace them with encouraging, positive words, but that's another blog post!

Best Friends Forever?

I always wonder about the people who remain "best friends forever," the ones who made promises to their friends in high school that they would always be there for each other, get together even after marriage and kids and basically be more faithful to their friendship than to anything else. But life is so full of change and growth and discovery that it would be very hard for anyone to truly remain best friends for decades unless either they both have the same calling on their life, or they choose to keep their lives as stagnant as possible.  Am I wrong in thinking this?

Life is so full of choices, and for those of us who believe in God, the one constant choice before us is always:  go with what's comfortable, or use your faith in a radical way?  Compromise or sacrifice?  You can begin with a group of friends, solid, caring friends who all believe in God just as you do.  In time each one makes small choices, slightly different from the others and before long you are heading in different directions.  What one has faith to do, the others don't and vice versa.  Each one has to be sure of her own choices and not allow the others to hold her back, that's the way it should be.

Mrs. Ross had a girls prayer group meeting in her home every Wednesday after school.  Her house was right next to our football field and we all looked forward to prayer-meeting day to sing and pray and talk about God with her.  She was an amazing and caring woman with a real heart to reach out to us young, 12 and 13 year old wiggly, giggly, slightly goofy girls.  My first experience with God, the first prayer I made of true surrender to Jesus as my Lord came about because of that group, and I know the path of my future was already marked because of Mrs. Ross' influence.

But as precious as that time was, each of us has grown and changed and taken different directions, though I'm certain, each of us loves God still.  Even the friends I have right now may not be on the same path as me in the years ahead, but what matters is, am I making the right choices for God right now?  Am I doing His bidding or concerned about the crowd?  Letting friends go can be sad, but nothing is worth letting go of God's leading.

Leadership Tips for Mothers

We're back again to topics on parenthood, for all you moms, moms-to-be, teachers and anyone else who needs a little help in getting the little ones to grow up well, here are a few worthwhile bits of advice.  Let me know what areas you'd like to read about.  I may not be an expert, but I've actually done all that I write about, so they're tried and true nuggets of wisdom - well, at least nuggets of common sense!


Dad is the head of the household, no doubt about that.  But because of work responsibilities and time at home, it’s normally mom who takes direct control of the day-to-day decisions when it comes to raising the children.  It’s a great honor to be entrusted with the molding and shaping of your little one’s lives, but at times it requires a will of steel to keep everyone in line.  Being a good leader does not always come naturally, and a few basic pointers can be very helpful for those wise enough to put them into practice.  Here are five of them that you can use right away:

1. Be the visionary – Promote a vision, a direction that you want your home to take and that the children can follow behind.  Do you want your home to be one where God’s Spirit and character are emulated?  That has to be a part of the basis for all you decide to do and make it clear that is the motivation for your decisions.  Getting a good education, doing well on even the smallest jobs, helping with the household chores and showing consideration to others all need to stem from this greater vision of your home.  You are the source of that vision, and if you stray from it, the kids will lose focus and motivation.

2. Be involved – For some mothers, this seems obvious, but sadly others don’t see the need.  Your children’s school and activities don’t exist merely for you to escape from the stress of child-raising, they all play a part in the shaping of your child’s values and character.  You need to be a part of their lives, see who it is they are befriending, know who it is that is influencing them, observe whether they are learning subtle lessons that you don’t approve of, and know about their successes.  Every child feels secure and proud to have mom on the sidelines cheering them on, and will be able to handle any corrections you give because they know that your actions already show how much you care.

3. Keep the Golden Rule – Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.  Show this by your own example as you show kindness to your husband and children and everyone else you come in contact with.  Enforce it as a rule that is even punishable.  Rudeness and selfishness cannot be tolerated.

4. Criticize wisely – Parents who just fly off the handle and yell out of emotion often find that their kids just tune them out the bigger they get.  The pushier you are, the less they listen.  Think carefully of a rational and clear argument to present when disciplining your child.  You can be angry, but be logical and reasonable at the same time.  Most likely they will already know that they are wrong, and will have a harder time arguing back when you have solid facts that speak for themselves.

5. Be quick with encouragement and praise - Acknowledging even small accomplishments can do wonders for a child’s self-esteem and desire to do even better.  Don’t laugh at the mistakes they made while trying their best to do well (the painting of Daddy with six fingers…you know what I mean!)  Remember that every child longs for the approval of his or her parents, and loving praise given will be returned to you with a solid bond of trust.