life in full circle and the daughter i'll always be...

Murals painted in vivid color depicting scenes from early life, decorated the warm restaurant of Bougainvilleas. Music wafted in the air and mingled with scents of homemade food coming from the kitchen. The waiter placed the cloth napkin on my lap, then my fathers. A soft cacophony of noises informed all visitors to the upscale restaurant they were in for a good time: dishes clinking, people laughing, and live music playing.

Life had come full circle for my father. The child who would stand outside the restaurant and watch wealthy Americans and European expatriates come and go, was now the man who walked brazenly into the restaurant to buy his child a sumptuous faire of food. We clinked our dishes, laughed together, and sang to the music playing.

Yes, Life had come full circle.

Returning to the land of the free and the home of the brave is met with new revelations of who I am as a daughter.

I'm the daughter who witnessed financial deprevation and broken dreams.

I'm the daughter who witnessed divine acts of God to provide for our family when my father could not.

I'm the daughter who hung on my father's back and passed out food to people in need when we had none for ourselves.

I'm the daughter who still believes her father can fix anything.

I'm the daughter who still crawls onto her father's lap to nap.

I'm the daughter who still whispers my dreams and hopes into the ear of her father.

I'm the daughter who wrote out the Joel 2:25 on a piece of line paper at the age of 7...

Now I'm the daughter who whispers into the ear of her dark-skinned, immigrant father, I will restore to you the years that the locust has eaten, says the Lord.

I love you, Daddy. Thanks for teaching me about your past, so I can know my future.

critics and quotes...

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat. --President Theodore Roosevelt

Peter heard the cock crow. Moses struck the rock. Jonah jumped ship. Eve bit the fruit and Adam followed. None of those pillars of biblical narrative would ever claim to be perfect. And neither do I. I have faltered, and sadly, I will falter again. Paul encourages and reminds the Romans that there is not one person who is righteous; everyone has failed and fallen (3:10, 23). But as believers in Christ, we stand before critics as broken vessels yet claim, through His stripes we are healed (Isaiah 53:5); as piles of ash waiting metaphoric beauty, we claim He uses the base to confound the wise (1 Corinthians 1:27).

Dale Carnegie said, Any fool can criticize, condemn, and complain, but it takes character and self control to be understanding and forgiving. Only listen to a critic if they can be forgiving. If not, be unthwarted by their comments. Like my father always told me, to escape criticism, do nothing, say nothing, be nothing.