Candles in the Rain

It was December 24th, 1999, a little after 8PM.  The clouds hung low and the air was eerily quiet as the processions of the Christmas Eve service just concluded.  Whispers of "May the Peace of Christ be with you" and tunes of "Silent Night" faded into the distance.  People scurried out of the sanctuary doors eager to go home for the impending morning.  Other people hurriedly blew out their candles as if celebrating their first birthday wish.  But no, not us.  We preserved our candle flames.  The Matsushima tradition was to keep our candles burning the whole walk home to Auntie Connie and Uncle Glenn's house.  We had to keep the fire burning, let our "little lights shine."  Mom, Dad, Ann, Grandma Sue, and I carefully protected each other's flames, hoping that their heat would burn long after the night had passed; if not on the wicks, then in our hearts.

As we approached the double doors to leave church, candle wax dripped onto my eleven year old hand after readjusting its position.  Grandma Sue, taking notice of my slip, gently pulled out a tissue and wiped my hand clean from the hot residue.  That was the archetypal image that I will always remember of Grandma Sue: always selfless, always caring for those close to her heart, always pouring out her love for the family.  Her gentle touch upon my fingers reassured me that love was with us that night.  Dad opened the double doors, and we stepped out into the night's sky.  A mild rain poured down on us like sprinklers watering the lawn.  God's tears fell from the heavens, the drops of a Father overcome with joy that three generations of believers shared the celebration of His Son's birth together.

As we scurried home, all of us huddled together in a tight circle, protecting the fire from the rain.  The closeness and unity of the Matsushima clan was powerful that night; it seemed as if nothing could dampen our spirits.  But suddenly, a fierce gush of wind picked up, dousing our our zealous flames.  Our tradition, our celebration, and our spirits were extinguished.  With our heads slung low, we felt downtrodden and defeated.  But not Grandma: her candle may have been snuffed, but her spirit was radiant.  Grandma's fire was not like the candle on that cold, Christmas Eve.  She was not a tiny light threatened by an onslaught of rain and wind.  Her flame was her dependence on Christ; an unmovable, unshakeable, inextinguishable faith centered on the Cross.  Although the flame was out, the faith lived on, a faith that would resound into the tumultuous year to follow...

Three days shy of a year later, Grandma Sue lay softly in her bed, her eyes closed, her face serene, and her heart still.  Dozens of family members crowded around her motionless body, mourning over her departure.  It was a sad Christmas that year, as the matriarch of the family passed away.  We would not be able to spend Christmas together, nor watch her joyful smile as we cuddled next to her to open presents.  We would not be able to eat her ozoni on New Years morning, nor hear her laughter on the first day of the new year.  And we would not be able to walk home together on December 24th, protecting and treasuring the symbolic flames of God's greatest gift to us.  But despite her departure, her spirit shines on.  Her earthly flame may have gone out, but long live her heavenly flame, which still shines bright within us, like a lighthouse beacon, beckoning us home, until that one day when we'll all be united as a family of Christ in our Father's house.  You passed the torch, Grandma Sue.  Now we run with it.

This little light of mine. I'm gonna let it shine.

This little light of mine. I'm gonna let it shine.

This little light of mine. I'm gonna let it shine.

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!!

Shine on, Grandma, shine on.

stillness and peace

Be still, and know that I am God...

Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him

Blessed are the peacemakers,

For they shall be called children of God.

LORD, make me an instrument of Your PEACE.

Tough Questions

This weekend Monica came up to visit me in the City.  The San Franciscan streets were full of thizzed out young people partying in the midst of downtown, celebrating the infamous yearly Love Fest.  The air was festive, yet a little too DUI-ish...affecting the mood of the urbanites.  And there we were.

Off we went into the City: downtown, the Tenderloin, the piers, past the Golden Gate bridge, it was all our turf for the day.  The miles we spent walking and bike riding eventually stole our calories, and our stomachs began calling.  Indian food; ahh yes, the delectable food of the Orient...spicy enough to make even the white man sweat (If you can't tell, I'm being sarcastic).  So into the unknown we went - Punjabi, the local Indian "dive" restaurant - for some cheap, but delicious eats.  After getting our table, we sat there, tired, kinda dazed, waiting for the food.  My mind was sluggish from the long (but FUN!) day, and Moni asked me two challenging questions: "What do you love?" and "What makes you happy?"

I realized that since I have been in college, my life has been full of things that consume my time, my energy, my life.  From weed and beer, to hackie-sacking, to Marxist thought and study groups, to Ethnic/Asian American Studies, and then to church, life has been a whirlwind of busyness and bluriness.  I can't remember half of what I did or read, and I can barely remember what I ate for dinner yesterday, but the one thing I do remember is that my life has been consumed by all the wrong things.

So when she asked me those questions, I had to think twice.  I gave answers of "I love seeing people joyful and it makes me happy when other people are passionate ;" but what do I love outside of other people's loves and joys?  So as I thought about it more thoroughly, I now know what I love: 

I love GOD.  

I know this answer sounds super generic and cliche, but it's true.  I love God.  God is who I want to learn to love more and God is who will ultimately make me joyful.  The LORD will bring me pure joy; I know this in my heart although I may not always acknowledge it in my head.  Moni said she loves music and dancing.  That's fantastic!!  And I know that I have other loves and joys that I am still searching for and developing, but my love of God will bring me joyfulness; joy comes from love; love comes from God.

These are my thoughts, and this is my first blog (maybe ever).  So bear with me, peeps, and we shall share these journeys and thoughts together.  You can call me Paul, because that is my name and that was my transformation.  As my friend once exclaimed after seeing me for the first time in about five years, "So it's true!  Saul has become Paul!!"