Some things don't change

My church in Shanghai held baptisms today. It was pretty cool seeing people from all over the world get baptized in their adopted city of Shanghai, China!

Baptisms are a time of great rejoicing, it means one more soul has made the choice to follow Jesus! I still remember the first time I realized what a momentous occasion a baptism really was. I was still in New York City and was studying for the bar at the time, a very very stressful occasion. I grudgingly went to church that Sunday morning expecting another run of the mill service - my heart really wasn't focused on praise or fellowship at first. But then Pastor Steve told us that there would be a baptism, and my mood immediately changed. That was also one of those few moments that I knew I had taken a small step forward in my walk with God. I was actually insanely excited and happy that another brother would join the fellowship of God. I had never met the guy being baptized, knew nothing about him, but I was still overjoyed at the prospect another person seeking a relationship with Jesus.

And today, in the witness of hundreds of people who have adopted the city of Shanghai as their home, the Church welcomed more people to its fold. It was so comforting to know that some things are greater than geo-political boundaries, cultural upbringing, race, and age.

Harry Potter!

I have a pretty noticeable scar on my forehead. It's about two inches long and I've had it pretty much ever since I can remember.

As a child, my mother lamented the fact that the doctors had not done a good enough job of patching me up and left me with a permanent disfigurement. Her visible disappointment coupled with her sighs and regretful remarks had quite an impact on young me. I grew up thinking that the scar somehow made me more flawed and disappointing and I actively tried to hide it by growing out my bangs.

But as I grew older, I started to notice the scar less and less and actually liked the way it looked on my face more and more. And peculiarly, as I became less and less self-conscious about my own scar, my mother would talk less and less about it.

Now, the scar doesn't bother me anymore. It's uniquely me and I kind of like that. I kind of like that a lot.