Following up on my previous post--which I intended as an analysis of human nature, not gun control laws--I would like to direct your attention to an article published today about the ratio of guns per citizens in various countries around the world. Turns out the U.S. is the most heavily-armed nation, with 90 guns per 100 people, according to this article.
The numbers from other countries around the world are very interesting.
I'm not entirely sure what to make of this topic, nor the numbers presented in the article. If you have any thoughts, please share them.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Denying God = death
I recently read an article on the state government's attempts to curb gun violence in the Aug. 15 edition of the L.A. Times. Here is the first paragraph:
"A proposed state bill requiring all new handguns to be stamped with microscopic identification tags could significantly decrease violence and shut down the illegal gun market if passed, proponents said in a news conference Tuesday."
Laughing yet? I was, by this point in the article. Those who refuse to acknowledge that people are basically depraved and sinful--not basically good--never give up on this idea that making guns more difficult to obtain or risky to use in crimes will not change the hearts of criminals. People will always kill other people, no matter what kind of technology tries to deter them, and whether or not guns are available to do the job.
Read the entire article here.
To me, this isn't a gun-rights issue, even though I feel passionate about the right to own and use firearms. It is, first and foremost, an issue of the gross misgivings that stem from denying that everyone is fallen and needs a Savior. That denial is dangerous--in this case, it means that a bunch of misguided politicians are trying to attack a spiritual problem with a physical solution, while folks continue to kill each other. It's a Band-Aid on a broken heart.
I am all about reducing gun violence. And war. But while the true solution escapes these decision-makers--or, more accurately, while they avoid it--people keep dying. We should be angry about the consequences of their denying God, not about guns and bullets.
"A proposed state bill requiring all new handguns to be stamped with microscopic identification tags could significantly decrease violence and shut down the illegal gun market if passed, proponents said in a news conference Tuesday."
Laughing yet? I was, by this point in the article. Those who refuse to acknowledge that people are basically depraved and sinful--not basically good--never give up on this idea that making guns more difficult to obtain or risky to use in crimes will not change the hearts of criminals. People will always kill other people, no matter what kind of technology tries to deter them, and whether or not guns are available to do the job.
Read the entire article here.
To me, this isn't a gun-rights issue, even though I feel passionate about the right to own and use firearms. It is, first and foremost, an issue of the gross misgivings that stem from denying that everyone is fallen and needs a Savior. That denial is dangerous--in this case, it means that a bunch of misguided politicians are trying to attack a spiritual problem with a physical solution, while folks continue to kill each other. It's a Band-Aid on a broken heart.
I am all about reducing gun violence. And war. But while the true solution escapes these decision-makers--or, more accurately, while they avoid it--people keep dying. We should be angry about the consequences of their denying God, not about guns and bullets.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Word of the day: 'Classicist'
"n. An advocate or the principles of classicism ... one who advocates the teaching of Greek and Latin in the schools."
I have a friend (you know who you are) who has recently converted to classicism, which is basically a different and more logical way to approach education than what is currently in place today. This friend sent me a link to an article written by Dorothy Sayers, whose name I recognized, but whose writing I had never read. Sayers was a contemporary of Lewis and Tolkien, and she argued--convincingly--in a 1947 essay, "The Lost Tools of Learning," that classical education should be revived, updated and implemented instead of the modern system of education. After 60 years, her words ring truer than ever. In this post, I will include a few snippets from her essay, which can be read in its entirety here.
"Have you ever, in listening to a debate among adult and presumably responsible people, been fretted by the extraordinary inability of the average debater to speak to the question, or to meet and refute the arguments of speakers on the other side? Or have you ever pondered upon the extremely high incidence of irrelevant matter which crops up at committee meetings, and upon the very great rarity of persons capable of acting as chairmen of committees? And when you think of this, and think that most of our public affairs are settled by debates and committees, have you ever felt a certain sinking of the heart?"
(This happened to me on Sunday, as I was watching part of a debate among Democratic presidential candidates on C-SPAN.)
"Do you ever find that young people, when they have left school, not only forget most of what they have learnt (that is only to be expected), but forget also, or betray that they have never really known, how to tackle a new subject for themselves? ... Do you often come across people for whom, all their lives, a 'subject' remains a 'subject,' divided by watertight bulkheads from all other 'subjects,' so that they experience very great difficulty in making an immediate mental connection between let us say, algebra and detective fiction, sewage disposal and the price of salmon--or, more generally, between such spheres of knowledge as philosophy and economics, or chemistry and art?"
Sayers' argument goes on and on, with ample evidence of the failure of modern education to do its job. She then proposes a return to classical education, under which we would teach kids the tools of learning before we start throwing information at them by the bucketful. I encourage you to read the entire essay. This last quote sums up what I have felt for a long time about public education in the U.S.
"Is not the great defect of our education today--a defect traceable through all the disquieting symptoms of trouble that I have mentioned--that although we often succeed in teaching our pupils 'subjects,' we fail lamentably on the whole in teaching them how to think: they learn everything, except the art of learning."
Please share your thoughts on this subject. I would love to explore educational philosophy in further depth, if my readers would be interested in participating.
Blogger's note: Books, and especially dictionaries, are full of good words. Feel free to leave a comment sharing one of your favorites, and keep watching for more of mine.
I have a friend (you know who you are) who has recently converted to classicism, which is basically a different and more logical way to approach education than what is currently in place today. This friend sent me a link to an article written by Dorothy Sayers, whose name I recognized, but whose writing I had never read. Sayers was a contemporary of Lewis and Tolkien, and she argued--convincingly--in a 1947 essay, "The Lost Tools of Learning," that classical education should be revived, updated and implemented instead of the modern system of education. After 60 years, her words ring truer than ever. In this post, I will include a few snippets from her essay, which can be read in its entirety here.
"Have you ever, in listening to a debate among adult and presumably responsible people, been fretted by the extraordinary inability of the average debater to speak to the question, or to meet and refute the arguments of speakers on the other side? Or have you ever pondered upon the extremely high incidence of irrelevant matter which crops up at committee meetings, and upon the very great rarity of persons capable of acting as chairmen of committees? And when you think of this, and think that most of our public affairs are settled by debates and committees, have you ever felt a certain sinking of the heart?"
(This happened to me on Sunday, as I was watching part of a debate among Democratic presidential candidates on C-SPAN.)
"Do you ever find that young people, when they have left school, not only forget most of what they have learnt (that is only to be expected), but forget also, or betray that they have never really known, how to tackle a new subject for themselves? ... Do you often come across people for whom, all their lives, a 'subject' remains a 'subject,' divided by watertight bulkheads from all other 'subjects,' so that they experience very great difficulty in making an immediate mental connection between let us say, algebra and detective fiction, sewage disposal and the price of salmon--or, more generally, between such spheres of knowledge as philosophy and economics, or chemistry and art?"
Sayers' argument goes on and on, with ample evidence of the failure of modern education to do its job. She then proposes a return to classical education, under which we would teach kids the tools of learning before we start throwing information at them by the bucketful. I encourage you to read the entire essay. This last quote sums up what I have felt for a long time about public education in the U.S.
"Is not the great defect of our education today--a defect traceable through all the disquieting symptoms of trouble that I have mentioned--that although we often succeed in teaching our pupils 'subjects,' we fail lamentably on the whole in teaching them how to think: they learn everything, except the art of learning."
Please share your thoughts on this subject. I would love to explore educational philosophy in further depth, if my readers would be interested in participating.
Blogger's note: Books, and especially dictionaries, are full of good words. Feel free to leave a comment sharing one of your favorites, and keep watching for more of mine.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Flying is... fun?
Two articles I recently found illustrate what a joy modern air travel is, from packing two weeks' worth of contact solution and shampoo into three-ounce bottles to sitting on the tarmac for five hours.
The first is about the fiasco that happened the day we came back from China, forcing everyone on our flight to sit in our seats for five hours because of a faulty network card in one computer in U.S. Customs. At least, that's what this article says. The ordeal pushed our arrival back from 6 p.m. until after midnight, and caused my parents' parking bill to run up to $27. It was the single worst experience I have ever had while traveling via airplane. Good ol' government technology.
The second article made me shudder a little bit inside. A China Air flight burst into flames on a runway in Japan after landing. No one was hurt, according to the article, but it was China Air, so, yeah...
I love flying.
The first is about the fiasco that happened the day we came back from China, forcing everyone on our flight to sit in our seats for five hours because of a faulty network card in one computer in U.S. Customs. At least, that's what this article says. The ordeal pushed our arrival back from 6 p.m. until after midnight, and caused my parents' parking bill to run up to $27. It was the single worst experience I have ever had while traveling via airplane. Good ol' government technology.
The second article made me shudder a little bit inside. A China Air flight burst into flames on a runway in Japan after landing. No one was hurt, according to the article, but it was China Air, so, yeah...
I love flying.
Reflections: What I didn't show, nor tell
I have been uploading photos to the safety of my hard drive for several hours now, thinking about all of the pictures and details that were missed as I tried to capture the most relevant images and thoughts during our trip. Many observations went unpublished on this blog because there was so much rich subject matter from which to choose. In this post, I will try to complete the experience a little, both with photos and with memories that are still fresh in my mind.
The first thing that comes to mind is the city. Beijing. Where smog presses in on otherwise clear days and cranes fill the horizon. There was construction happening everywhere we turned in Beijing, from the huge Olympic stadium that looked like massive scraps of metal folded one over the other to the downtown renovations that I assume are underway to make the city more palatable to wealthy Westerners for the 2008 Games next summer.
Although frequent rainfall cleansed the air while we were there, smog crept in any time it wasn't raining, and atmospheric moisture combined with the smog for a confusing, unsettling canopy over the city during our ventures into downtown Beijing. We stayed in a school about half an hour away, but visited the city often, attending church there and taking the children to Tienanmen Square during week 2.
The city felt like so many others I have visited, noisy with traffic and full of tree-lined sidewalks. But it was also different, of course. A little more subdued than the major U.S. cities I have visited.
So much of our time was spent riding through the countryside on buses that I cannot go without describing that experience. First of all, it was usually so hot outside that we looked forward to the air conditioning the vans provided, even if it meant cramming our long, American legs into seats made for smaller people. Second, I am one who thoroughly enjoys just looking out the window as I ride, especially in a foreign country. Fascinating to see the people commuting, working, selling, trying to avoid being hit by vehicles that don't stop at crosswalks.
Most times, the kids would fall asleep when we rode somewhere in the vans, but on the way to the Great Wall during week 1, Dori's girls started peeking around the seat at me, poking my leg when they thought I wasn't watching, then retreating to their seats. It was especially sweet because it was the first time that Sarah (on the right in the picture below) had shown such outgoing playfulness. Until then she had been very reserved.
The campus where we stayed often felt deserted. With empty rooms full of discarded furniture and whole buildings I never saw anyone going in or out of, it was especially lonely on the weekends, when the other camps, ones where Chinese teenagers arrived to practice basketball or music, had left.
One thing I mentioned but did not have time to describe was a beautiful garden attached to the famous "Forbidden City" where emperors supposedly spent their entire lives. We only had about an hour inside, after purchasing tickets for something like 80 cents, but it was enough to take in the immaculately-maintained paths and plazas.
What else can I say? Plenty, I imagine, if I completely combed my memory. But I think I have exhausted that which you would find even remotely interesting. I will leave you with a couple of random photos.
OK, there is one more thing I just have to post. While we were at the gorge on Saturday, Aug. 4, there was a man on a motorcycle going across a tightrope. With a man in a seat hanging ten feet below him. These two guys were at least 300 or 400 feet above the lake. I have no idea what kind of wire-gripping equipment they were using, but I hope in these photos you can get a feel for their insanity.
The first thing that comes to mind is the city. Beijing. Where smog presses in on otherwise clear days and cranes fill the horizon. There was construction happening everywhere we turned in Beijing, from the huge Olympic stadium that looked like massive scraps of metal folded one over the other to the downtown renovations that I assume are underway to make the city more palatable to wealthy Westerners for the 2008 Games next summer.Although frequent rainfall cleansed the air while we were there, smog crept in any time it wasn't raining, and atmospheric moisture combined with the smog for a confusing, unsettling canopy over the city during our ventures into downtown Beijing. We stayed in a school about half an hour away, but visited the city often, attending church there and taking the children to Tienanmen Square during week 2.
The city felt like so many others I have visited, noisy with traffic and full of tree-lined sidewalks. But it was also different, of course. A little more subdued than the major U.S. cities I have visited.
So much of our time was spent riding through the countryside on buses that I cannot go without describing that experience. First of all, it was usually so hot outside that we looked forward to the air conditioning the vans provided, even if it meant cramming our long, American legs into seats made for smaller people. Second, I am one who thoroughly enjoys just looking out the window as I ride, especially in a foreign country. Fascinating to see the people commuting, working, selling, trying to avoid being hit by vehicles that don't stop at crosswalks.
Most times, the kids would fall asleep when we rode somewhere in the vans, but on the way to the Great Wall during week 1, Dori's girls started peeking around the seat at me, poking my leg when they thought I wasn't watching, then retreating to their seats. It was especially sweet because it was the first time that Sarah (on the right in the picture below) had shown such outgoing playfulness. Until then she had been very reserved.
The campus where we stayed often felt deserted. With empty rooms full of discarded furniture and whole buildings I never saw anyone going in or out of, it was especially lonely on the weekends, when the other camps, ones where Chinese teenagers arrived to practice basketball or music, had left.
One thing I mentioned but did not have time to describe was a beautiful garden attached to the famous "Forbidden City" where emperors supposedly spent their entire lives. We only had about an hour inside, after purchasing tickets for something like 80 cents, but it was enough to take in the immaculately-maintained paths and plazas.
What else can I say? Plenty, I imagine, if I completely combed my memory. But I think I have exhausted that which you would find even remotely interesting. I will leave you with a couple of random photos.
OK, there is one more thing I just have to post. While we were at the gorge on Saturday, Aug. 4, there was a man on a motorcycle going across a tightrope. With a man in a seat hanging ten feet below him. These two guys were at least 300 or 400 feet above the lake. I have no idea what kind of wire-gripping equipment they were using, but I hope in these photos you can get a feel for their insanity.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Home, sweet home
So our trip to China was full of new experiences, from beginning to literal end. Neither Dori nor I had ever sat in an idle plane on the tarmac for five hours before yesterday, but a computer failure at U.S. Customs inside LAX apparently was enough to cause us to do just that--an entire 747 full of weary travelers stranded from 4:45, when we landed, until around 9:30. It took three more hours to get our baggage and clear customs. We arrived home around 4 a.m.
Thank you all again for your prayers of safety and health. Neither of us fell ill during the trip, and neither broke any bones or worse. We are simply glad to be home, in our little guest house in downtown Fallbrook, spiritually and emotionally recharged after our life-changing trip with Bring Me Hope.
Thank you all again for your prayers of safety and health. Neither of us fell ill during the trip, and neither broke any bones or worse. We are simply glad to be home, in our little guest house in downtown Fallbrook, spiritually and emotionally recharged after our life-changing trip with Bring Me Hope.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Day 5 of week 2: On our way home
Today, the second group of children left to return home early in the morning. We ate a quick breakfast, gathered their belongings and sent them on their way. One interesting thing happened during all the commotion, which was the emotional breakdown of my toughest child during these two weeks, named Jake. He was barely touching his food at the 6 a.m. breakfast--poking it with his chopsticks, really. I asked my translator if he thought Jake was sad, and he said he didn't think so. But, 30 seconds later, we both watched a tear slide to the tip of Jake's nose.
I had made a difference.
These two weeks have taught me so many things, and I expect it will take months to unpack all of them out of the bag of memories that I will carry home with me. Dorinda and I can't wait to come home and see our families, sleep in the same bed again and be able to drink the tap water if we wanted to. But a part of us enjoyed being needed so much, being in a place and time where we knew we were doing God's will, obeying Him, pleasing Him. That is a great feeling, and rare.
We have had fun these two weeks...
But it is time for us to return, and we are ready. Thank you so much for your prayers, your correspondence and your enduring support. We hope to see you very soon.
From Beijing, this is Tom Pfingsten reporting.
I had made a difference.
These two weeks have taught me so many things, and I expect it will take months to unpack all of them out of the bag of memories that I will carry home with me. Dorinda and I can't wait to come home and see our families, sleep in the same bed again and be able to drink the tap water if we wanted to. But a part of us enjoyed being needed so much, being in a place and time where we knew we were doing God's will, obeying Him, pleasing Him. That is a great feeling, and rare.
We have had fun these two weeks...
But it is time for us to return, and we are ready. Thank you so much for your prayers, your correspondence and your enduring support. We hope to see you very soon.From Beijing, this is Tom Pfingsten reporting.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Day 3 of week 2
Today is the first true sunny day since we arrived. It rained yesterday, on my birthday (see below post), but today has been beautiful so far--reminiscent of San Diego weather, actually. So we have all been enjoying it. When the sun is not shining, it's still about the same temperature, but so humid that you don't want to move. Actually, Dori rewashed some of my laundry today, and it dried in less than an hour hanging outside. It had taken three days to dry previously, with complications, so let's just say I should not be doing laundry.
The water park is a big hit again this week. The inflatable water slide attracts boys like a magnet, and there were only a few heel-to-face collisions today. The pool is equally popular, although I tossed in a translator this morning who could not swim, did not know she could just stand up to keep from drowning, and commenced the drowning sequence--arms flailing, etc.--in four feet of water. I felt terrible.
It is interesting how the end of the week is in sight almost as soon as each one-week camp begins. It is already mid-Wednesday as I am writing this, and tomorrow will be our last full day with the orphans; they leave Friday afternoon. My two are an interesting pair, one 18 with disabilities and one 13 with serious willpower issues, but I love them.
I hope to complete one more post with photos before we fly home on Saturday. Thanks for reading, for your prayers and support while we have been here, and for taking an interest along with us in these orphans.
The water park is a big hit again this week. The inflatable water slide attracts boys like a magnet, and there were only a few heel-to-face collisions today. The pool is equally popular, although I tossed in a translator this morning who could not swim, did not know she could just stand up to keep from drowning, and commenced the drowning sequence--arms flailing, etc.--in four feet of water. I felt terrible.It is interesting how the end of the week is in sight almost as soon as each one-week camp begins. It is already mid-Wednesday as I am writing this, and tomorrow will be our last full day with the orphans; they leave Friday afternoon. My two are an interesting pair, one 18 with disabilities and one 13 with serious willpower issues, but I love them.
I hope to complete one more post with photos before we fly home on Saturday. Thanks for reading, for your prayers and support while we have been here, and for taking an interest along with us in these orphans.
Birthday in Tienanmen Square
Yesterday I turned 25, and it just so happened to be the one day of this week that we would take all the children out for a day in Beijing. We went to Tienanmen Square, then to a massive park that was built 800 years ago by an emperor, then to a museum that was equally impressive in size. I thoroughly enjoyed the day, between the kids, my wife and friends, and the sightseeing.
It started out cloudy, then rained. But not until we were on the far side of the massive park, with about half a mile to walk back to the buses. Then, as I predicted, it cleared up as soon as we reached the museum, and it was partially sunny when we got back to the school. Indeed, my sense of Murphy's Law was in fine form on my 25th birthday.
Here are a few photos from yesterday.
This baby was wandering all over the place in the square. She was so cute and animated, and the group of firefighters so stoic, but one saw her fall over and bent to pick her up.
The woman in the picture above was playing a song that a Bring Me Hope translator informed me was entitled, "Mother is the best person in the world." I don't think she knew "Happy birthday." She also told me she wanted her picture to "go all over the world" (in Chinese).
The museum was full of cool historical items, but, unfortunately, each lengthy paragraph of Chinese description would be followed with one or two English words. It was not, therefore, the most enlightening experience, even though it was neat to see all the artifacts.
And here is a picture of my second translator and I, wearing sleeves on our heads. Good times.
It started out cloudy, then rained. But not until we were on the far side of the massive park, with about half a mile to walk back to the buses. Then, as I predicted, it cleared up as soon as we reached the museum, and it was partially sunny when we got back to the school. Indeed, my sense of Murphy's Law was in fine form on my 25th birthday.
Here are a few photos from yesterday.
This baby was wandering all over the place in the square. She was so cute and animated, and the group of firefighters so stoic, but one saw her fall over and bent to pick her up.
The woman in the picture above was playing a song that a Bring Me Hope translator informed me was entitled, "Mother is the best person in the world." I don't think she knew "Happy birthday." She also told me she wanted her picture to "go all over the world" (in Chinese).
The museum was full of cool historical items, but, unfortunately, each lengthy paragraph of Chinese description would be followed with one or two English words. It was not, therefore, the most enlightening experience, even though it was neat to see all the artifacts.
And here is a picture of my second translator and I, wearing sleeves on our heads. Good times.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Day 0 of week 2
Tomorrow, the orphans of week 2 will arrive. A few just pulled in this evening, but those who will be assigned to Dorinda and I will not get here until the morning. We have had a crazy weekend, and I will try to relate a bit about what we did.
Saturday: We left mid-morning for a lake several hours away in a place named "Dragon Gorge." It was a combination of natural wonder and Disneyland-style commercialization. Dramatic vistas with moss-covered crags set behind street vendors selling goat-kebabs and flimsy swords. It was definitely not like any other experience I have had. Only one place ever felt even remotely like it: the Bufadora in Ensanada, Mexico. Below is a photo of the boat ride we took to the bungee-jumping/zip line area.
Several people in our group jumped, and several others rode a zip line across the lake; Dori and I took pictures and ate lunch from the safety of the dock. After leaving the extreme sports complex, we rode a boat back to the entrance of the gorge and rode an alpine slide to the bottom. The views and the rides were worth the five hours it took to get there in a van made for oriental (read: short) legs.
After the gorge, we drove back to the suburbs of Beijing, ate dinner at a Mexican restaurant near Li Mai school, and spent about an hour at Starbucks, now a lush indulgence, after a week with no coffee.
Above are two pictures of where we went today. You may have heard of it: Tienanmen Square. It's huge. And there were a lot of Chinese people there--go figure. We walked a ton after our lunch of pizza and soda, and a sermon at the same international church we attended last week. We are exhausted, and in some ways, I am looking forward to a week with the orphans more than I would a week of pure touring. The kids are worth the trip, they are what we came for, and I am looking forward to another week with them.
There were several highlights from week 1, many of which came right at the very end. My translator, Ai Lin, really came out of her shell on her last night here. We talked about God and family, about her future and mine, about the boys we both learned to love in less than five days, and about next year. There's always next year.
But somehow that's not what you think as you watch the Chinese people--translators and kids alike--return to their homes. You think, "I wish there were more of this year to spend with them, more of today, more of this very moment." It is sad, but at the same time it puts everything in crystal-clear perspective. No amount of getting ahead in a career, no amount of toys, can take the place of loving other people, especially when those people need love so much.
Ai Lin wrote me a short note and gave it to me Friday night. She would not let me read it until she had left. When I did, several parts of it really hit home. She wrote, for example, that I had helped her understand that she should study English to communicate ideas to other people, not just to get a "high grade." And she demanded that I tell her when Dori and I "have the baby."
"I'll miss you," she concluded. "I love you."
Saturday: We left mid-morning for a lake several hours away in a place named "Dragon Gorge." It was a combination of natural wonder and Disneyland-style commercialization. Dramatic vistas with moss-covered crags set behind street vendors selling goat-kebabs and flimsy swords. It was definitely not like any other experience I have had. Only one place ever felt even remotely like it: the Bufadora in Ensanada, Mexico. Below is a photo of the boat ride we took to the bungee-jumping/zip line area.
Several people in our group jumped, and several others rode a zip line across the lake; Dori and I took pictures and ate lunch from the safety of the dock. After leaving the extreme sports complex, we rode a boat back to the entrance of the gorge and rode an alpine slide to the bottom. The views and the rides were worth the five hours it took to get there in a van made for oriental (read: short) legs.
After the gorge, we drove back to the suburbs of Beijing, ate dinner at a Mexican restaurant near Li Mai school, and spent about an hour at Starbucks, now a lush indulgence, after a week with no coffee.
Above are two pictures of where we went today. You may have heard of it: Tienanmen Square. It's huge. And there were a lot of Chinese people there--go figure. We walked a ton after our lunch of pizza and soda, and a sermon at the same international church we attended last week. We are exhausted, and in some ways, I am looking forward to a week with the orphans more than I would a week of pure touring. The kids are worth the trip, they are what we came for, and I am looking forward to another week with them.There were several highlights from week 1, many of which came right at the very end. My translator, Ai Lin, really came out of her shell on her last night here. We talked about God and family, about her future and mine, about the boys we both learned to love in less than five days, and about next year. There's always next year.
But somehow that's not what you think as you watch the Chinese people--translators and kids alike--return to their homes. You think, "I wish there were more of this year to spend with them, more of today, more of this very moment." It is sad, but at the same time it puts everything in crystal-clear perspective. No amount of getting ahead in a career, no amount of toys, can take the place of loving other people, especially when those people need love so much.
Ai Lin wrote me a short note and gave it to me Friday night. She would not let me read it until she had left. When I did, several parts of it really hit home. She wrote, for example, that I had helped her understand that she should study English to communicate ideas to other people, not just to get a "high grade." And she demanded that I tell her when Dori and I "have the baby."
"I'll miss you," she concluded. "I love you."
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Day 4 of camp 1
Yesterday and today, we have spent all of our time here at the private school called "Li Mai." The Bring Me Hope staff has set up a water park, with an inflatable slide that's a lot of fun, and there is a swimming pool where our kids like to hang out. Ping pong and basketball are also popular activities.
Tomorrow will mark the end of our first week of camp. The time has just flown by. My two boys have opened up and left most of their timidity behind. They are extremely polite, and do as I or my translator say. Dori's two girls have become very active and outgoing, as well. One of them, whom Dori named Sarah, was shy and quiet to the point of not speaking when she arrived, but now smiles and waves whenever either of us look at her. I even heard her shout just a few minutes ago at lunch. She is so cute.
We are having a great time playing with the kids, and in the evening the staff and volunteers--all the Americans--gather for a devotional led by Steve Kettering and some worship. The fellowship has been awesome so far, and we are being blessed right and left. Even in a foreign country, we have it so good.
Tomorrow will mark the end of our first week of camp. The time has just flown by. My two boys have opened up and left most of their timidity behind. They are extremely polite, and do as I or my translator say. Dori's two girls have become very active and outgoing, as well. One of them, whom Dori named Sarah, was shy and quiet to the point of not speaking when she arrived, but now smiles and waves whenever either of us look at her. I even heard her shout just a few minutes ago at lunch. She is so cute.
We are having a great time playing with the kids, and in the evening the staff and volunteers--all the Americans--gather for a devotional led by Steve Kettering and some worship. The fellowship has been awesome so far, and we are being blessed right and left. Even in a foreign country, we have it so good.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
