A few reminders about dating by the Dating Guru
After experiencing one failure after another when I was dating as a young man, I feel obligated to tell you young people the valuable lessons I have learned so you won’t repeat my mistakes. I earned the title “dating guru” not because of my success on the dating scene, but from my failures. My dating disasters somehow made me wiser, and if I had the opportunity to do it again, God forbid, I would surely do it entirely differently. Anyway, take heed to what the ole wise dating guru has to say to you.
1. “House and wealth are inherited from parents, but a prudent wife is from the Lord.” Proverbs 19:14
2. Waiting creates yearning and the longer you wait, the sweeter the fruition of your romance will be.
3. It takes will power to love, but the more will power it takes for you to love someone, the shorter it will last, so never force a romance to take place if it isn’t meant to occur. No one can force a rose to bloom. It should happen naturally.
4. Do not fall in love with love. This is something that you encounter in comedy of manners. They are comical and laughable and always end up bad. Don’t trust your emotions at the moment when soft music is playing and candles are burning. Don’t be fooled by moonlight and the tender gaze of the one who happens to be walking next to you.
5. You can’t be truly happy with someone else if you can’t be content being by yourself. Insecurity and low self-esteem have ruined many relationships.
6. Make yourself into someone to whom you would like to be married and be in the places where the girls or guys you like to be with are. You know where nerds are if such people are the objects of your affections. Hey, nerds are indeed quite loveable and actually have something to say about different issues besides sports. You better become a spiritual person if you desire a Godly woman or man as a spouse.
7. A little prayer for your future spouse doesn’t hurt. A good wife, or husband, can make your home so heavenly and life so much more enjoyable. Believe me; I am speaking from my personal experience.
8. Be yourself all the time, but before you can truly be yourself before men, you need to spend time cultivating yourself by putting all the goodies into your own life in private. Keep your body in good shape by exercise and your spirit in top form by practicing godliness and charity. Nothing hurts your self-esteem more than filth in languages and actions. Not many people will like you if you loathe yourself.
9. Outward appearance is overrated. The ones who choose future mates on the bases of physical beauty should be avoided at all cost. You need to choose someone who will become more and more beautiful, or handsome, as years go be, not the opposite.
Well, this piece somehow turned out to be more didactical than I had expected and is loaded with cliché. A preacher can’t really hide himself behind the skin of a guru. My apology and a backbreaking Japanese bow. Ouch!
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Friday, October 19, 2007
An Ordinary Heart
“…but Israel, who pursued a law of righteousness, has not attained it.”
Ro 9:31
It’s almost impossible for us to pursue anything disinterestedly, yet such is the key to achieve anything of true value. The people who are in hot pursuit of the pearl of great price should not have the object of their pursuit in mind all the time. To be mindful of our search is to be forgetful about it.
It’s something called an “ordinary heart,’ (平常心) a phrase coined by Lin, the champion of “Go” in Japan, and it means that a chess player should maintain a sense of equilibrium when she or he is competing. The ones who are overly concerned about winning will most likely lose. We all know why kickers who make the PAT routinely miss their crucial kicks when the game is on the line. Under critical circumstances, our minds tend to do strange things that keep us from performing our best physically.
We need to maintain a “ordinary heart” when we pursue the valuable attribute of righteousness.
A lot more than just an apple falling from a tree caused Newton to discover the law of gravity. He had done tons of research and thinking before the discovery was finally made, but in one sense, the natural law was revealed to him as accidentally as an apple falling down from a tree. Newton, being a devout Christian, might have been pursuing his scientific research both disinterestedly and intentionally.
One of the better poems that I wrote, I wrote unintentionally. I was sitting in the front yard one summer at my in-laws’ house and looking at a small pool of water, thinking about nothing in particular; yet in that ‘eureka’ moment an idea surfaced in my mind and a Chinese poem was written almost by itself. It wasn’t even a product of “a spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings.” The poem was up there in the sultry noonday air, and I simply reached up and took hold of it.
Once, when I was a budding poet in high school, I climbed up a steep hill in the suburbs of Taipei and ventured into the woods to seek inspiration for my writing, yet after several hours of walking up and down in the mist and rain, I walked down from the mountain empty-handed, with head down and a few crumbled pieces of paper in my pocket. What I was searching for became quite elusive, for I was looking for it so attentively and intentionally.
Magical things tend to happen when we aren’t really looking for them. There’s something called “falling in love.” People may easily fall off the deep end if they intend to fall in love at any given moment. Such people can easily fall in love with anyone they meet for the very first time, even if it is a mule, for it makes very little difference whether the object of their affection is desirable or not, they have merely fallen in love with love.
When Peter suddenly realized he was walking on raging water, he started to sink.
Ro 9:31
It’s almost impossible for us to pursue anything disinterestedly, yet such is the key to achieve anything of true value. The people who are in hot pursuit of the pearl of great price should not have the object of their pursuit in mind all the time. To be mindful of our search is to be forgetful about it.
It’s something called an “ordinary heart,’ (平常心) a phrase coined by Lin, the champion of “Go” in Japan, and it means that a chess player should maintain a sense of equilibrium when she or he is competing. The ones who are overly concerned about winning will most likely lose. We all know why kickers who make the PAT routinely miss their crucial kicks when the game is on the line. Under critical circumstances, our minds tend to do strange things that keep us from performing our best physically.
We need to maintain a “ordinary heart” when we pursue the valuable attribute of righteousness.
A lot more than just an apple falling from a tree caused Newton to discover the law of gravity. He had done tons of research and thinking before the discovery was finally made, but in one sense, the natural law was revealed to him as accidentally as an apple falling down from a tree. Newton, being a devout Christian, might have been pursuing his scientific research both disinterestedly and intentionally.
One of the better poems that I wrote, I wrote unintentionally. I was sitting in the front yard one summer at my in-laws’ house and looking at a small pool of water, thinking about nothing in particular; yet in that ‘eureka’ moment an idea surfaced in my mind and a Chinese poem was written almost by itself. It wasn’t even a product of “a spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings.” The poem was up there in the sultry noonday air, and I simply reached up and took hold of it.
Once, when I was a budding poet in high school, I climbed up a steep hill in the suburbs of Taipei and ventured into the woods to seek inspiration for my writing, yet after several hours of walking up and down in the mist and rain, I walked down from the mountain empty-handed, with head down and a few crumbled pieces of paper in my pocket. What I was searching for became quite elusive, for I was looking for it so attentively and intentionally.
Magical things tend to happen when we aren’t really looking for them. There’s something called “falling in love.” People may easily fall off the deep end if they intend to fall in love at any given moment. Such people can easily fall in love with anyone they meet for the very first time, even if it is a mule, for it makes very little difference whether the object of their affection is desirable or not, they have merely fallen in love with love.
When Peter suddenly realized he was walking on raging water, he started to sink.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
All Things
“…how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?”
Ro 8:32
I thought I had a monopoly on all the fruit of the sole fig tree in the park about a stone throw away from our house until the birds discovered the ripened figs.
“Who do they think they are,” I screamed aloud as I was chasing those hateful sparrows away with a hearty shout.
I have been paying special attention to that fig tree since it began to bud after the snow melted and the weather turned warm, and I visited the small tree at least twice a day as I was walking my dog. I thought I owned the scrawny fruit tree.
I guess I really don’t own it. The tree was donated to the city by one of our church members and the taxpayers foot the bill to hire people to water and maintain the tree. I may be stretching a little bit, but I do consider myself a part-owner of the fig tree, albeit a very small part, since I have been dutifully paying taxes.
My fellow owners of the tree in the neighborhood don’t seem to care all that much about the fig tree. Perhaps they have no idea of the identity of the tree or they simply don’t care for its fruit since it is not sweet enough to suit their American palate. Anyway, I thought I owned the tree by simply claiming it.
The Birds begged to differ, though. They didn’t seem to pay any attention to the bush-like fig tree until the fruit it bore started to turn soft and juicy.
After months of gazing at the figs and occasionally squeezed them to test their softness with my fingers, one or two were beginning to turn from dark green to pale yellow, and I knew my time of harvest was at hand. It took me a while to ponder whether I should consume the first fruit or offer it to the Lord. Not knowing whom to give it to if I were to offer the first fruit to God like the Bible commands us to do, I quickly pulled off the skin and ate it before my overly-sensitive conscience had an opportunity to tell me to do otherwise or to condemn me. I thought I was entitled to eat the fruit that belonged to God since I was God’s servant. The long wait seemed to make the fig so much sweeter. It was indeed heavenly to eat the fruit that the Lord Jesus seemed to enjoy eating while he was in the flesh.
I wasn’t the first one to pay attention to the figs, though. The birds seemed to know by instinct the figs were ready to be consumed. They were quite formidable competitors for the exotic fruit because they set their camp in the park and pecked at the ones that were softening up. I seemed to lose ground by the day and was disheartened. “Don’t they know how much I love figs?” I asked.
What they ate was to sooth their hunger, but I merely tried to satisfy my palate when I tasted the fig. It dawned on me one day. Quite different from the birds, I eat the figs not to survive, but to enjoy the sweetness that lasts but a fleeting moment. I should be ashamed of myself for competing against the poor sparrows for figs. Just because I have been given all things by my Heavenly Father, it doesn’t necessarily mean that I have earned an inalienable right to keep all things for my own personal enjoyment. There are starving birds everywhere who need the figs a lot more than I do. To me, eating the figs is just a matter of brief delight, but for the hungry birds it is a matter of life and death.
Ro 8:32
I thought I had a monopoly on all the fruit of the sole fig tree in the park about a stone throw away from our house until the birds discovered the ripened figs.
“Who do they think they are,” I screamed aloud as I was chasing those hateful sparrows away with a hearty shout.
I have been paying special attention to that fig tree since it began to bud after the snow melted and the weather turned warm, and I visited the small tree at least twice a day as I was walking my dog. I thought I owned the scrawny fruit tree.
I guess I really don’t own it. The tree was donated to the city by one of our church members and the taxpayers foot the bill to hire people to water and maintain the tree. I may be stretching a little bit, but I do consider myself a part-owner of the fig tree, albeit a very small part, since I have been dutifully paying taxes.
My fellow owners of the tree in the neighborhood don’t seem to care all that much about the fig tree. Perhaps they have no idea of the identity of the tree or they simply don’t care for its fruit since it is not sweet enough to suit their American palate. Anyway, I thought I owned the tree by simply claiming it.
The Birds begged to differ, though. They didn’t seem to pay any attention to the bush-like fig tree until the fruit it bore started to turn soft and juicy.
After months of gazing at the figs and occasionally squeezed them to test their softness with my fingers, one or two were beginning to turn from dark green to pale yellow, and I knew my time of harvest was at hand. It took me a while to ponder whether I should consume the first fruit or offer it to the Lord. Not knowing whom to give it to if I were to offer the first fruit to God like the Bible commands us to do, I quickly pulled off the skin and ate it before my overly-sensitive conscience had an opportunity to tell me to do otherwise or to condemn me. I thought I was entitled to eat the fruit that belonged to God since I was God’s servant. The long wait seemed to make the fig so much sweeter. It was indeed heavenly to eat the fruit that the Lord Jesus seemed to enjoy eating while he was in the flesh.
I wasn’t the first one to pay attention to the figs, though. The birds seemed to know by instinct the figs were ready to be consumed. They were quite formidable competitors for the exotic fruit because they set their camp in the park and pecked at the ones that were softening up. I seemed to lose ground by the day and was disheartened. “Don’t they know how much I love figs?” I asked.
What they ate was to sooth their hunger, but I merely tried to satisfy my palate when I tasted the fig. It dawned on me one day. Quite different from the birds, I eat the figs not to survive, but to enjoy the sweetness that lasts but a fleeting moment. I should be ashamed of myself for competing against the poor sparrows for figs. Just because I have been given all things by my Heavenly Father, it doesn’t necessarily mean that I have earned an inalienable right to keep all things for my own personal enjoyment. There are starving birds everywhere who need the figs a lot more than I do. To me, eating the figs is just a matter of brief delight, but for the hungry birds it is a matter of life and death.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Why?
Why?
“Why did you make me like this?”
Ro 9:20
I have never met a single person who is completely happy with him or herself. Some may feel more secure under their skin than others, but most of them have certain flaws either physically or emotionally with which they constantly struggle. That’s something that we label “being human,” I suppose.
Being human is being imperfect and frail, and for anyone to consider it otherwise is either arrogant or ignorant.
Many people who accomplish great deeds in their lives are vexed by many mental and physical infirmities. Abraham Lincoln had to deal with severe depression all his life and was in danger of losing the battle against himself many times. There have been many people of great renown who suffered bipolar disorder, and what drove them to great despair and utter darkness also inspired them to create some of the greatest literature and music in human history. We all know what happened to the hearing of Beethoven, the greatest musician who ever lived, and how the sight of the great epic poet Milton was taken away at a relatively young age.
People with great sensitivity are sensitive to both joy and sorrow, and are creative in creating great works of art and, unfortunately, are also very creative in creating their own sorrow out of the sensitivity of their own hearts. One simply can not have one without the other. We don’t have the privilege of picking and choosing; what we are endowed with by the Almighty is a whole package deal.
I often envy people with great mathematical skill who do well at school, yet as I look further, some of the objects of my envy seem to have great difficulty communicating their ideas and feeling in a clear and understandable fashion, and many of them aren’t communicative at all. They may have sound and logical minds, yet lack the aptitude to appreciate the seemingly illogical and disorderly in the world and fail to see beyond human reason and to venture into the beautiful mystery of the metaphysical.
I am still learning to embrace myself with my warps and flaw, sensitivity and vulnerability and all. What choice do we have really? Can we trade ourselves in for a better one? There was a label attached to us that said “no returns” when we were born, and for better or for worse, we just have to learn to live with ourselves and make the best out of the less than the best.
“I find that I love my baby more and more,” a lady who had just given birth to a Down’s Syndrome baby told my wife a few weeks after the boy was born. To love a healthy and beautiful baby surely takes a lot less effort for a mother than to adore a baby with health or mental issues, but she still needs to learn to love wholeheartedly just the same, albeit one is a lot more challenging than the other.
On the other hand, I cannot imagine what this world would be like if the Lord created all of us perfect, for the seemingly perfect people are all so plastic and unappealing, arrogant and assuming. How can humility, the greatest quality that the Lord covets in his creatures, be forged in the flowery bed of perfection?
“Why did you make me like this?”
Ro 9:20
I have never met a single person who is completely happy with him or herself. Some may feel more secure under their skin than others, but most of them have certain flaws either physically or emotionally with which they constantly struggle. That’s something that we label “being human,” I suppose.
Being human is being imperfect and frail, and for anyone to consider it otherwise is either arrogant or ignorant.
Many people who accomplish great deeds in their lives are vexed by many mental and physical infirmities. Abraham Lincoln had to deal with severe depression all his life and was in danger of losing the battle against himself many times. There have been many people of great renown who suffered bipolar disorder, and what drove them to great despair and utter darkness also inspired them to create some of the greatest literature and music in human history. We all know what happened to the hearing of Beethoven, the greatest musician who ever lived, and how the sight of the great epic poet Milton was taken away at a relatively young age.
People with great sensitivity are sensitive to both joy and sorrow, and are creative in creating great works of art and, unfortunately, are also very creative in creating their own sorrow out of the sensitivity of their own hearts. One simply can not have one without the other. We don’t have the privilege of picking and choosing; what we are endowed with by the Almighty is a whole package deal.
I often envy people with great mathematical skill who do well at school, yet as I look further, some of the objects of my envy seem to have great difficulty communicating their ideas and feeling in a clear and understandable fashion, and many of them aren’t communicative at all. They may have sound and logical minds, yet lack the aptitude to appreciate the seemingly illogical and disorderly in the world and fail to see beyond human reason and to venture into the beautiful mystery of the metaphysical.
I am still learning to embrace myself with my warps and flaw, sensitivity and vulnerability and all. What choice do we have really? Can we trade ourselves in for a better one? There was a label attached to us that said “no returns” when we were born, and for better or for worse, we just have to learn to live with ourselves and make the best out of the less than the best.
“I find that I love my baby more and more,” a lady who had just given birth to a Down’s Syndrome baby told my wife a few weeks after the boy was born. To love a healthy and beautiful baby surely takes a lot less effort for a mother than to adore a baby with health or mental issues, but she still needs to learn to love wholeheartedly just the same, albeit one is a lot more challenging than the other.
On the other hand, I cannot imagine what this world would be like if the Lord created all of us perfect, for the seemingly perfect people are all so plastic and unappealing, arrogant and assuming. How can humility, the greatest quality that the Lord covets in his creatures, be forged in the flowery bed of perfection?
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