Easter Sunday

Like me, I’m sure every one of you are practicing clean hygiene, social distancing, and sheltering in place, waiting for this whole Covid-19 to be over with.  All of our lives have suddenly been disrupted.  I’m hoping things go back to normal soon.

I’ve been reading how people are feeling restless, helpless, and hopeless during this time.  There are messages about blame, and hatred.  But there are also warm messages supporting the essential workers who are helping us stay alive and messages of love.  It’s interesting how people react when under pressure, especially how the ugly side just naturally come out.  It’s human nature, and we are far from being perfect.

The one positive message that has been going around is the message of hope.  That might be what most of us are still holding on to to keep us sane.  I’m holding on to hope; I know that’s the key when I feel like giving up.  So where is my hope?  My hope is in my Savior, the one who died for me.

Easter has become the most meaningful holiday for me.  Without the message of the cross and Christ’s resurrection, I know I wouldn’t have survived this long since my sister passed away.  Every day I hold on to the hope that I will see her again.

I’m grateful during my times of despair, God gives me reasons to keep going and provides me refuge.  When I felt lost and alone, fellowship and my home church introduced me to Him.  When family life became unbearable, God sent a friend who became a part of my family.  When I felt trapped, college life freed me.  When I felt helpless at home, Taiwan became my sheltering place.  When my life was missing laughter and love, God brought me my husband to make me feel alive again.  When my life felt aimless, reconnecting with a dear brother gave me purpose.  He helped me realize what I should be doing with the gift God has given me.

God gave me the ability to put words in writing, and a gift of telling stories.  Thus, writing has become my creative outlet and screenwriting my storytelling platform.  This journey is still pretty new to me and I still have lots to learn.  But I know I’m doing what I’m meant to be doing when I feel joy doing it, and when my writing gets noticed.  I know I’m becoming a better writer and I’m making progress.  I’m excited that my TV pilot made it to the quarterfinals of a prestigious screenwriting fellowship.  It is 1 out of the 856 scripts  from almost 3000 submissions moving forward.  I have something to look forward to and I’ve found a purpose.

I hope you find a purpose too, something to hope for, to live for.  If one thing is worth knowing, it’s this:

Rejoice, because there is a God who loves you enough to send His only son to die for you.  He not only died, but he resurrected and conquered over death.  He is a living God.  And he died for you.  That’s how much He loves you.  And all He asks is that you believe, and believe that He has a wonderful plan for your life, the very best in mind.

EASTER JOY

Jesus came to earth,
To show us how to live.
How to put others first,
How to love and give.

Then He set about His work,
That God sent Him to do;
He took our punishment on Himself;
He made us clean and new.

He could have saved Himself,
Calling angels from above.
But He chose to pay our price for sin;
He paid it out of love.

Our Lord died on Good Friday,
But the cross did not destroy
His resurrection on Easter morn
That fills our hearts with joy.

Now we know our earthly death,
Like His is just a rest.
We’ll be forever with Him
In Heaven, where life is best.

¹⁶ For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. (John 3:16 NIV)

Because I Matter!

Thanksgiving passed already, and Christmas is just a few days away.  Holidays are a great time to get together, see those close friends and family we haven’t spoken to in weeks, months, years.  At least that’s what I’ve always imagined it would be like for me.

Unfortunately, my holidays hasn’t been like this for many years now.  It’s been years since I’ve received an invitation to sit at the table and enjoy a meal with my parents and sister.

It hurts, realizing that your blood family doesn’t think of you.  Realizing that you aren’t important, you don’t matter to them anymore.  But that’s how my life has turned out to be like.  I might not be the only one who feels this way.  I’m sorry if you are feeling the same.

The good news: we still matter.  I still matter.  You still matter.  There is someone out there who thinks of me, remembers me, smiles down at me every single hour, every single moment.  He sees you too.

I am glad it was in God’s plan for me to know Him.  To know that I am His.  He is my loving father who cherishes His relationship with me, His daughter.  I matter to Him.  That’s why He created me.  He calls me by name.  He sent Jesus down to die for me.  That’s how much I matter to Him.

I am reminded of a song I heard a long time ago, the song that first inspired me to write a script for my church drama ministry.

“We Are The Reason” – David Meece

As little children
We would dream of Christmas morn
Of all the gifts and toys
We knew we’d find
But we never realized
A baby born one blessed night
Gave us the greatest gift of our lives

We were the reason
That He gave His life
We were the reason
That He suffered and died
To a world that was lost
He gave all He could give
To show us the reason to live

As the years went by
We learned more about gifts
The giving of ourselves
And what that means
On a dark and cloudy day
A man hung crying in the rain
All because of love, all because of love

I’ve finally found the reason for living
It’s in giving every part of my heart to Him
In all that I do every word that I say
I’ll be giving my all just for Him, for Him

He is my reason to live

If you’re having a difficult time going through this holiday season this year like me, remember this:

You and I are not here just to fill a space or to be a background character in someone else’s movie.  Nothing would be the same if you and I did not exist.  Every place we have ever been and everyone we have ever spoken to would be different without us.  We are all connected, and we are all affected by the decisions and even the existence of those around us.

God loves you and me!  Our life is precious to Him!  If no one else, we still matter to Him!

²⁹ Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.  ³⁰ And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. (Matthew 10:29-30 NIV)

Letter to my sister in Heaven

Dear Aileen,

You came into this world experiencing two years of undivided love and full attention.  But then your life was disrupted by two strangers who you learned to share that love and attention.  You learned to care for them and look out for them because they were your baby sisters who mean the world to you.  We played together, had our adventures together, fought with each other, and sometimes we despised each other.  We could love and hate each other like no other.

We grew older and learned to appreciate each other.  We shared secrets, we confided in each other, we experienced the same family life, we laughed together, we cried together.  We became each other’s best friend and confidant.  We understood each other, we were the only ones who could tolerate each other.  Our hearts connected and we bonded like no other.

Just when we were experiencing the best years of our relationship as sisters, God decided to take you home, and my whole life with you in it shattered.  I lost my big sister, my best friend.  A part of me died with you that day, and I have never been the same.

It’s been 20 years now, half of my life lived without you…20 years too long.  I have not forgotten you, nor forgotten that tragic day and how I felt when I realize that you were never coming home again.

I doubt I will ever be fully happy again.  There will always be melancholy in me that will never go away.  I will always be 50% happy and 50% sad at any given moment.  I will never get over losing you.  I know that now.  And I embrace it.

I never want to forget you because you deserve to be remembered.  That’s how important you are to me.  So if I have to be sad and lonely without you, missing your gentle spirit and tender heart, missing your voice and laughter, and what you brought to life, that’s the way I choose to honor you.  I’ll be sad and I know it.  I accept it and I’ll live with it.  Because I know it’s okay to have these feelings.  I’ll keep honoring you because that’s what keeps you alive in my life until we see each other again.

Thank you for having been a part of my life and the best sister ever!

Someday I will be whole again.  Until then, please forgive me when I continue to miss you and cry when I think of you.

Missing you always and forever!

 

²¹ For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.  (Philippians 1:21 NIV)

The Forgotten Mourner – Sibling Grief

My heart feels heavy for the past month, even worse this past week because my oldest sister’s anniversary is coming up in a few days…it will mark 20 years since I lost her.  It will also mark exactly half of my life without her.  20 years, and I still miss her dearly, and I still find it hard getting over this day, this month, this event.

I thought grieving should become easier as the years pass, but I am finding it very hard.  As long as I miss my sister, I will always have a hard time dealing with this day.

I just recently looked up why I feel the way I do.  It’s because I lost my sibling, and it turned my whole life upside down.  I am one of the forgotten mourners.  I lost someone who shared a unique co-history with me.  My sister was an integral part of my formative past.  We shared common memories, along with childhood experiences and family history.  When death took away my sister, it also took away one of my connections to the past.  She knew me in a very special way, unlike those who know me now as an adult.  Consequently, a constant is gone.

My sister holds a symbolic place in my life.  And it changed my family’s dynamics.  I went from the youngest to the oldest because my middle sister isn’t capable enough to be an older sister, the older child to be there for my parents, who in their own ways are still grieving silently to date.  This new role changed my relationship with my parents.   I honestly think I haven’t really allowed myself to grief in a healthy way for 20 years because my parents were focused on overcoming their loss, so I’ve felt a little abandoned by my parents.   At a time when I needed them the most, my parents were disabled by their own grief.

This is what I learned today:  losing a sibling creates a “horizontal” grief in which shared histories and futures are fractured, creating uncertainties and insecurities that are often unacknowledged or misunderstood.  Sibling relationships are among the closest many of us will ever have.  The death of my sister breaks that unique sibling bond that is irreplaceable.  My sister will always be my best friend, “buddy” through life, protector, and keepers of the family secrets.  The loss is the loss of a “life witness”, one who knows me in a way that no one else ever will.   As a result, surviving sibling may suffer from long-term depression.  This is why I can’t make myself happier.  I will never be okay.

Time will not heal the pain, but it’s okay.  And it’s okay if I still need to cry, because it just reminds me how much I loved her and how much she loved me.  She will always be a part of me, in my heart, and in my memories.  I will forever miss the hell out of her.

The Worst Day of My Life

I passed by my sister’s resting place this past weekend.  It motivated me to continue my story.

This was my junior year in college.  The quarter just started for me.  I remember already being at home that Saturday, and waiting for my eldest sister to come back home.  She was coming home that day to attend a Billy Graham Crusade in San Jose.  It was her last quarter at Cal Poly and she was graduating in December.

I waited and waited.  She didn’t show up.  My mom finally asked me to call up my sister’s friend who she was suppose to meet before going to the crusade.  I called him up, and I remember his words so vividly:  “I’m coming to your house right now”.

He showed up.  It was difficult for him to say this, I could tell.  He finally spoke up.  “Aileen has been in a car accident.  They are at the hospital in Salinas.”  We didn’t really wait for him to finish as we rushed out the door.  On the way there, he told us there’s more…

A pickup truck, driven by a 16-year-old girl and her mom, lost control.  The car swerved over the center divide and hit my sister’s car coming from the opposite direction.  The impact was head-on.  My sister’s car, her brand new 2-door Honda Civic, flipped and turned, and finally stopped when it hit the freeway wall.  My sister’s friend who she was driving up with, the 16-year-old girl, and her mom, were all taken to the hospital.  My sister was the only one who didn’t make it in that accident.  She was pronounced dead at site.

We arrived at the hospital and saw the friend.  We wanted so badly to see my sister, but we couldn’t.  She chose to be an organ donor, so we couldn’t see her body.  We went home.

That night I couldn’t sleep.  None of us could.  I remember walking to my parents room and crying, “I want Aileen back.  I want Aileen back.”  It felt like a nightmare…and I was desperately hoping to wake-up from it.  But I never did.

It was about a week later when my parents went to claim her body.  I was at school so I couldn’t accompany.  My twin sister and two friends went to see my sister’s car at the vehicle impound to reclaim her belongings.  The photos of the car showed the roof completely shaved off on the driver’s side.

Since then, things have been so different.  I stopped receiving her emails at school, and her encouragement cards that she would snail mail to me.  I miss her smile, I miss her voice.   My grades that quarter started to fall.  I kept playing the event over and over in my head.  What if I had called Aileen before she left?  It would have delayed her drive for a couple minutes and she could have avoided that accident.  What if I had from the very beginning applied to the same school as her?  I would have been around to stop the accident.   These were questions in my mind.  I find myself thinking about them quite often since then.

For a long period I was very bitter.  I was bitter at myself, I was bitter at God.  Because God is an all-knowing God; He is omnipotent.  He could have kept this from happening, but He didn’t.

Remember my previous post about the motivation I received from the annual retreat and my prayer?  I asked God to use me that year….He heard my prayer all right.  He gave me my sister’s testimony.  I didn’t want Him to answer my prayer that way.  I didn’t expect Him to answer my prayer like that.  If I could, I would take it back.

It’s been 20 years since.  It took me many years to start understanding why God took my sister away.  I’m still trying to find answers today.  I still miss her very much.  There is not a day that goes by when I don’t think about her.

It’s hard to understand why God allows bad things to happen in our lives.  But sometimes, it’s also through these bad things that we see what’s more important in life.  Through my sister’s incident, God opened my eyes to see His wonderful gift of salvation, and the gratitude in knowing that we’re all saved by grace, and grace alone.  We don’t need to work for our salvation.  It’s a gift, ready for us to receive.

Here’s what I’ve learned so far:

• I’ve learned how precious God’s relationship with me is.  He gives me a living hope, because He promised me that I will see my sister again.  It’s really what keeps me going these days.

¹⁶ For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. ¹⁷ After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. (1 Thessalonians 4:16-17 NIV)

• God is using me to share my sister’s testimony to touch lives:  It gave me the courage to start going on mission trips (YUGO, Taiwan) to share God’s great love to people because my sister had a great love for God and people.

My story continues to where I am today because of that first missions trip back to Taiwan.

For now, I’ll end here.

²⁵ Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; ²⁶ and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:25-26 NIV)

 

 

Love is about sacrifice

I didn’t realize my last post was 3 months ago….life really keeps you busy, but sometimes you have to remind yourself to slow down.  I’m slowing down today to take the time to write.  It feels good to write.  I want to continue to write about my story, but to start off, I want to share this, because it reminds me that I found my Mr. Right.

This is a posting from classicofloves.com  (translated into English by me)

When a man does these, he really loves you!

A lot of women say that you can’t believe what men say.  They like to say things like “You can depend on everyone, except men.”  It’s a little sad.  It just means you haven’t met a good guy, or rather, you don’t understand men.

If a man really loves you, he will definitely do these things:

1.  Willing to pull out his wallet for you – money is not the most important thing in a relationship, but it is a necessity.  If a man loves you, he will not calculate how much; as long as  your request is reasonable, as long as it is within his means, he will not say no.  Because in his heart, you are already his, why should he have an issue giving you money to spend?
2. Willing to listen to your sufferings – a lot of things upset women easily, and in men’s eyes, they think it’s all small issues, sometimes not even worth getting upset about.  A man who loves you hopes to understand what you are thinking about, is willing to listen to you talk about your problems, and after listening to you, expresses his comments and comforts you.
3. Willing to suffer because of you – most young men are willing to work hard for love.  If they are a little tired, if their life is a little bitter, it’s okay.   Men who are a little short on cash will learn to budget, so that they can invest in the relationship.   Those who are able, will consider your future when they do everything.  When they are eating, they will wonder if you’re eating too.  When they are having fun, they will have wished to bring you along.  When they are happy, they will think about how you are feeling right now.  No matter where they are, they will think of you.
4.  Willing to wrap things up for you – when two people dine, sometimes the woman will say she can’t finish the food.  A guy who loves you will finish your food.    As young man growing up, they will most likely have been pampered much.  It’s always been family members giving and them receiving.  If a guy loves you, he will learn to put you ahead of himself.
5. Always protecting you at the crucial moment – when two people are walking down the street, a man who loves you will always walk on the side closest to traffic, and you will be on the side away from traffic; that way you feel safe.  When you are climbing a mountain, the man will walk behind you, protecting you as you climb up.  When it is raining, he will hold the umbrella over your side more than his; even if he gets rained upon, he doesn’t want you to get wet. When it is gusty out, he will hold you tight, not wanting you to blow away….no matter the situation, he will always be willing to minimize the hurt you experience.

A good man needs a good woman to hold onto.  Maybe the man beside you is not perfect right now, and not the knight in shining armor you’ve dreamt about, but as long as he genuinely treats you well, you should learn to cherish him.  The best way for a woman to cherish a man is to love him deeply, to let him be the only one occupying your heart, and to let him face life’s challenges together with you.

 

I want to share this, because that’s what my husband was like when we were dating.  I remember even to this day how, after a meal, he would hand me his wallet as the check arrived.  He would always pull me away from traffic as we walked down the street.  He did all 5 things.  Even now that we are married, he still does these 5 things.  He’s not perfect and I’m not perfect; we both have our flaws, but I still love him.

The biggest lesson I have learned in my marriage is self-sacrifice;  I learned to put his needs before mine.  It’s very easy to become selfish, because we always love ourselves more.  But when you love someone, you will be willing to sacrifice.  When someone you love is happy, you are happy too.

I remember growing up in Sunday School I learned this song: J-O-Y, J-O-Y, this is what it means:  Jesus first, you come last, and others in between.

Hoping we all learn to love each other by sacrificing a little of ourselves.

¹³ And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. (I Corinthians 13:13 NIV)

 

 

 

 

Let it go…God’s in control

I am digressing from what I intended to write earlier.  My mind has been occupied with this and I’d like to share a few thoughts.

My dad had triple bypass on the 13th.  He went to see the doctor because he’s been experiencing shortness of breath.  This surgery and its aftermath has been a great test of my faith, and got me thinking a lot.  His surgery was very successful, as the surgeon was a friend of my aunt who so happened to be available to perform surgery on my dad.  It was why he went into surgery just two days after his cardio angiogram.  But the recovery has been difficult.  My dad suffers from diabetes so his blood sugar hasn’t been very steady.  One minute it might be below 200, another minute it might spike up to above 350 or even 400.  This last spike above 400 was what brought him back to the ER after prior discharge from a week’s stay in the hospital recovering from the surgery.

This ER visit discovered that he had suffered a stroke.  The CT scan showed dark patches on the left-side of his brain.  It explains why he had difficulty expressing himself after surgery.  We all thought that it was due to the drugs and that he would recover, but after a week, he was still exhibiting symptoms.  He suffers from expressive and receptive aphasia.  Fortunately his condition is mild to moderate.  A visit to the acupuncturist also confirms there is fluid in his brain which would explain his symptoms.  But now he has to go thru speech therapy.  He knows five languages and right now, they are all jumbled into one.  He can tell time, but if you ask him what time it is, he can’t tell you.

I actually haven’t seen my parents since end of April 2015 when we last had a family trip together.  I was hoping the trip would be a chance to make things right, but it only made things worse.  Words that should have been said weren’t, misunderstandings that should have been cleared up were ignored.  I guess everyone was just hoping that time would make things right, but it didn’t.  I had decided then to distance myself because I didn’t want them hurting me anymore.  Many things and events have led to a broken relationship between us, and it’s gotten to a point where when I think about it, I can’t help but shed a tear and feel the ache inside.  So I can’t tell you how they are doing.

I am grateful though that my mom decided to tell me that dad was going into surgery.  She texted me after his angiogram.   It took me a lot of courage to make that phone call to talk to them.   My mind was telling me I need to reach out as a daughter, but my heart still ached.  I am constantly reminded of what they told me:  I am the daughter who decided to marry off, and is no longer part of the family.  And taking that step to visit them at the hospital after the surgery, it took great strength.  When I saw my dad lying in bed, I went to hold his hand and we exchanged glances.  My eyes watered up…his did too.  I’d like to believe he was glad to see me even though he was too weak to speak.  The next couple of days he was under a lot of drugs to ease the pain and to help him sleep so he wasn’t alert most of the time.  I tried talking to him, but not sure how much he really understood.  Now that he has suffered a stroke, I’m not able to talk to him like I use to anymore.

My dad is the anchor at home.  He takes care of all the tasks that keeps the family functioning.  And now I see my mom and my sister a little lost without my dad being 100%.  Honestly speaking, my mom and sister could have cared for my dad a little more.  But apparently their standard or definition of care are very different from mine.  They’re not very aware of the things he does for the family, or are not very appreciative.  He goes to the accountant to file taxes.  When we were still on good terms with my parents, my husband and I have actually taken him there a couple times because we felt it was the least we could do.  He’s getting old and shouldn’t drive since he has been legally blind in one eye for a couple years now due to cataracts.   My mom and sister never bothered to take him or even tag along.  And now that tax season is around, they don’t know what to do.  I would offer to help, but I know my mom is not comfortable with that idea.  We have issues with trust.  They  also have never paid attention when my dad monitored his own blood sugar, so they were not monitoring it when he was discharged after surgery.  It was the hospital aide who came to the house who discovered his high blood sugar level, sending him to the ER.

I know the road to recovery is a long journey.  And whether my dad will be 100% or not, I don’t know.  But now is a testing of our faith.  I know God will be faithful, and I hold fast to His unfailing love for my dad, for my family, for me.   And my mom is being tested too.  Does she really care for my dad like a wife should?  If she didn’t, now she’s learning.   And my sister will learn to care for my dad too.  As for me, I’m learning to put our differences aside for now and be there for support.  There have been many awkward moments, but the communication line with my mom has been reopened.  There are still a lot of unspoken and unresolved issues, but I think at this stage, it’s pointless now.  Just doing what I am comfortable doing.  I’m still protecting my heart, and taking it one step at a time… and do what God compels me to do.  There’s really not much I can do to change the situation, so I am learning to let go and letting God take control.

¹ Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, ² through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. ³ Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; ⁴ perseverance, character; and character, hope.  (Romans 5:1-4 NIV)

²⁸ And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28 NIV)

³¹ What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us,who can be against us? ³² He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? (Romans 8:31-32 NIV)

³⁵ Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?  ³⁷ No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. ³⁸ For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers,³⁹ neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:35-39 NIV)

 

 

 

Our Paths Were Destined

Our paths were destined to meet…

My first post was about being married to my non-Christian husband.  I received a lot of grief when we decided to be together, but many events in our lives, I think , were hints from God that He had planned for us to meet, for our lives to cross.  Whether we chose to be together or not, that was God giving us free-will.  (If you never watched “God’s not dead”, I highly recommend watching it.  It gave me better knowledge on how to refute Evolution [vs. Creation] and about free-will.)

Why were we destined to meet?  Because of our backgrounds:

1. When I attended UC Davis, I heard about Semester-at-Sea.  Not many people are aware of this program where college students are able to study abroad on a ship for one semester and see the world at the same time.  [You didn’t know either, did you?]  But I heard about this program and wanted to apply.  Never got the chance though because my parents would not have allowed it.  What I didn’t know was that my husband’s father worked on that vessel, as head of cabin crew.  He would often approach the Asian students and build friendships with them.  I’m sure we would have met if I went.
2. My husband’s sister moved to the bay area during the time we were here.  They owned a hotpot restaurant in Fremont at the very old Ranch 99 plaza off of Fremont Blvd.  During that time, there were not that many Asian plazas.  Our family actually went to that restaurant and his sister remembers meeting a family with twin sisters.  It could have been us.
3. My maternal grandfather loved playing mahjong.  I am aware that he often held mahjong games at his residence on Zhonghua Road near Taipei Botanical Garden.  My husband’s mom often played mahjong and frequently visited that area.  He remembers going to that neighborhood often with her but never stayed because he doesn’t like mahjong.  When he first met my grandfather, he said he looked familiar, like he’s seen him before.  Of course he was quite young at the time, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they did meet.

When we first met and when I was contemplating whether to date him or not, I struggled a lot.  I sought counsel from some close friends.  One dear brother’s advice stuck to me,  he said “choosing your life-long companion is such an important decision that we need to strive to place God at the center of our desires and make sure that his desires are our desires. but we also need to acknowledge that God is in control… he doesn’t let us go far enough to let us screw up his plan… he is in control and he does what he knows is right. so feel assured that if God wants you both to be together, you can trust God will bring you both together.  God is in much greater control than we give him credit for.”

I agree I might not have heeded his advice to make God’s desire my desire, but I do not regret my decision.  I would like to think God already knew which way I would go and probably shook His head and sighed, but He still let me go that way, because He loves me and gives me a choice.  But He still has me walking in His plan.

In the end, we started dating and eventually got married.  (This is a story saved for another time.)

The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps. (Proverbs 16:9 ESV)

Christmas Time

The holidays haven’t been an easy time for me for many years now.  I too have experienced loss (I’ll share more later).  But I remind myself that Jesus is the reason for the season, and I continue to rejoice.

Sharing a wonderful post:

Source: The Beauty of Grace (A Christmas Prayer)

For a child is born to us, a son is given to us. The government will rest on his shoulders. And he will be called: wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.  (Isaiah 9:6 NLT)

 

 

He knows my name

This is one of my favorite songs; I sing it all the time.  I first learned it in 1999:

I have a Maker, He formed my heart; Before even time began, my life was in His hands

I have a father, He calls me His own; He’ll never leave me no matter where I go

He knows my name, He knows my every thought

He sees each tear that falls and hears me when I call

 

Before even time began, my life was in His hands…

My parents use to tell us many stories about us growing up.  My mom told me they were only planning to have two children, so when they found out they were having twins, a nun had asked if she could have one of us.  I was the younger one.  But when she gave birth, they changed their mind.  My life would be very different if I ended up being a nun.

A memory my mom remembered well was when I was only a couple months old, one night I had a very difficult time breathing. My breath was shallow, and it seemed like I was gasping for air with every breath.  My parents didn’t know what was wrong especially since they didn’t do anything different between me and my twin sister.  It was late in the evening, so going to the doctor was not possible.  My dad said that having twins were by luck already, and having only one survive was not uncommon.  But my mom didn’t believe that.  That night she stayed by my side, checking to make sure I was still breathing…it was a long night I’m sure.  Morning finally came and a trip to the doctor told her that I had allergies to powdered milk.

We have a lot of family photos at home, and I’d look through them often.  Our family looked happy.  We lived in an apartment in Xizhi. I remember going to preschool, kindergarten, first grade.  At that time my dad started working overseas.  I still remember when we sent him off to the airport.  It was a very exciting day because everyone went to the airport to see him off.  I think we followed a couple months later to visit him, or so I thought.  Who knew…we “jumped ship”.  My mom brought my sisters and I with only 2 luggages and we landed in Los Angeles.  It was our first trip to America, and it was our last trip anywhere for 6 years.

In third grade I remember coming back home and finding both my parents at home.  Usually it’s just my mom at home but today was different.  My dad was home too, and actually, there were police officers at our house too.  Why?  Because we just got robbed.  I remember my dad saying he saw the robbers pulling out of our carport as they were driving up from running errands.  My dad saw what seemed like our pillow cases wrapping and covering things in the back of their trunk.  My mom was driving, so my dad actually got out of the car and tried to run after the robbers as they were driving away.  I remember the police officers telling my parents they were very fortunate because my sisters and I came home not long after.

We later moved to Foster City.   It was a quiet year, but I remember my parents telling us to sleep over at a friend’s house one day.  That sleepover turned out to be more than a week.  The kids had fun…we camped out in the family room, formed our own club – The lucky 7.  I didn’t know at that time what my parents were dealing with.  Now I know.  Foster City has about 45% Asian population in 2010 according to wikipedia, mostly Chinese I would assume.   But back in 1980s, the Asian population was small…so small that there was strong prejudism.  My parents received a note from someone in our neighborhood threatening us to move.  They said if we didn’t move, my parents would lose a daughter.  That week my dad had a police friend stay at our house while my parents spent all their time looking for a place to relocate us.  We finally moved and settled down.  It was the first time I actually stayed at a school longer than 2 years.

Growing up I didn’t like the change, I hated being the new kid at school, and I hated that we had to move so often.  But I now know why.  When we jumped ship that year, we became illegal immigrants.  We entered legally with visitor visas, but we just never went back.

I remember my parents being very low-key and protective of us.  We didn’t have a lot of possessions.  I remember moving and changing schools halfway in the school year during my 2nd grade.  When we moved up from Los Angeles to San Francisco, our belongings could fit in a used 2-door Ford Escort with the three of us sitting in the back.  We went to school, but always came home right afterwards.  We never participated in any school activities or played in any sports team.  We never had friends over at our house.   My parents tried to make ends meet living on my dad’s salary alone.  We didn’t have big meals, our dinner was always 2 dishes and a bowl of soup.  We were always well fed, but I’m sure my parents were never full.  We didn’t have a lot of new clothes or toys.  I remember  our toys were mostly second hand and from garage sales.  The new things I remember getting, I can count with my two hands: a barbie doll, a new bicycle, a musical clown my dad gave me for getting straight A’s in school.  Oh, there was also a panda I received for Christmas.  I saw the panda at Price Club (now Costco) and wanted it so badly.  I didn’t bring it home that day, but received it as a Christmas gift held at a friend’s house.  It was from “Santa” but I knew that it was from my parents.   I also remember holding a yard sale with a friend’s family.  At the end of the day, we just traded the toys that didn’t sell with each other.  I visited this aunty a couple years ago, and she remembered us always going to school with old, raggedy clothes.

Another thing I remember: my mom telling us one day that she’s going back to work.  I didn’t want her to go to work, but she said we needed the extra income though it was not much.  She graduated from National Taiwan Normal University, one of Taiwan’s elite higher education institutions, and was a teacher in Taiwan, but now the only work she could find here was assemble computers in a warehouse and getting paid under the table.   She always came home with cuts and bruises on her hands.  But we got our first computer from her workplace.  I don’t remember if they received any discount, but I’m sure my parents spent a lot of money to get us one.

One day, 6 years after coming to the US,  I saw my mom and older sister jumping up and down after talking to my dad on the phone.  My parents told us we are flying back to see our relatives again.  Through the US lottery system (Diversity Immigrant Visa Program) my parents apply to every year, we finally got picked and have greencards now and can stay in the US legally.  My parents no longer had to fear.

My parents love us and sacrificed a lot for us, to give us a good life and education here in the US.  How much more does this Heavenly Father, who created me, loves me?   These events all happened before I knew about God and Jesus, before I knew about my Maker.  His hands were protecting me, watching over me from the very beginning.

 

Know that the Lord, he is God! It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.  (Psalms 100:3 NIV)