Issue #40 | Feb 01, 2016

Over the Hill

I KNOW OF ONE surefire way to feel better whenever I feel sad. In a divine and delightful fashion, my church teems with the most delicious babies on Sundays.
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Cover photography by Jessica Park
Spare the Rod, Spoil the Adult
By Sharon Cho

God knew what He was doing when He made creation; children get to make some mistakes. The five-second rule for fallen food, for example. There are more items that won't kill them than those that will if they put it in their mouths.

Bare and Busting a Move
By Pete Sung

My little 3-year-old, John-Parker — we call him JP for short — loves to dance. And his jubilance is on its greatest display in his now traditional, post-bath, naked dance.

When in the Kingdom, Do as Kids Do
By Monica Hong

HER PINK FLORAL HEADPIECE fell on the ground as she wriggled toward her father's arms. She showed little concern for the way she looked on stage in front of the entire congregation; her poofy tulle skirt flipped upside down like a cupcake wrapper to expose her frilly diaper bottoms. She simply wanted to draw closer to her dad.

In Case You Forgot
What You Used to Hope and Fear

Some of our younger friends share their hopes and fears with us, as a reminder of how we used to think.

Like Mother, While Daughter
By Bok-Hee Evergreen Park

DEAR MOTHER, When I think of you, I remember how caring you were and how you treated being a mother as a privileged duty. And when I think of myself as a mother, I am so awkward!

Not Sure If I Can Handle God’s Sovereignty
By Martin Yan

IT’S HARD TO TALK about Justin, my little second cousin, without feeling conflicting emotions. Justin was born out of wedlock to my cousin when she was 19. He was the mistake, the thing that she was trying to hide for several months before her parents found out. He was the accidental life born from two teenagers who had no reason to be together, much less stay together.

A Gift Shaped By Fire
Notes on a Missionary Kid’s Childhood
By Mia Ayumi Malhotra

MY FAMILY MOVED to the Lao People's Democratic Republic in 1990, just as the country emerged from Cold War isolationism into an era of international development and commerce. No paved roads or traffic lights; hammers and sickles hung in every storefront window. At night, our Soviet air conditioner rumbled through the sticky heat; at dawn, we woke to Party broadcasts, blared across municipal grounds.

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