Uncompromised

Recently, I had dinner with some girls from the international student bible study, my new friends this semester. Over dinner, we went around the table talking about our ideal guys, haha. Typical. And at the end, when they got to me, I said,

"Hopefully the guy is taller than me by several inches, given that I'm super short and that shouldn't be too difficult. But most important, whoever he be, he must love God more than he loves me. He should be hardworking. He can make me laugh. He has a heart for people and loves international students."

And we went into a long conversation about why Christians want to date/marry Christians, and how that was unfair in their eyes. We talked about these things we looked for in our 'partner' as if our lists were judgement on all the men of the world.  When I said that the male leaders in our international ministry probably look for Christian women in marriage, I could easily sense that this brought an unsettled atmosphere to our table. ...But how could religion not be a big deal? Religion can play into polygamy, into domestic abuse, into mutilation

reflecting just now.. it's not about what I care most about him, it's about what I care most about myself and about my life.

What I mean:

International students have become a source of life for me. If he doesn't love international students, there is a whole chunk of me that he would never know, never understand. So how could he even begin to love me entirely, when there is so much about me that he is unable to see?

I care most about God. God is my life. He is my everyday, my every moment. If he doesn't know God, know Jesus, that is my life that he would never know, never understand. So how could he even begin to love me, if this is all of me, and he is unable to see?

So, I continually want God. I continually choose God. I will never change my heart about that.

I say I look for those things in a 'partner' because I don't want those things in me and about me to ever go away. God is not a debate for my life. I will not compromise God.

Some might say they prefer someone who loves dancing, running, or singing, who lives in a certain part of the world, or makes a certain amount of wealth. It's looking at our own lives, thinking  "who am I and what about who-I-am do I care about the most"

DISCLAIMER: I do not support the idea of marriage as being a calling, or singleness as a calling. You don't have to be called by God to be single. It is not a disease. God wants us to be faithful in everyday. We are not incomplete until we are married. We are complete when we proclaim Jesus as lord over our lives, and when we say that, we're saying, 'nothing else but Jesus.'

I just called my high school about a small issue about AP Credits for the lab section of chemistry. I think I spoke with Ms. Nakyama and then they transferred me to Mr. Paulsen. I stuttered and forgot how to breath. He probably didn't remember me, but he spoke as if he did. I imagined his office in that small library. And I thought of where I'm at right now and I was probably going to cry if we didn't end the conversation then. "What school are you attending? How are things?" "I go to SIU. I just changed my major." And I wanted to cry. I feel like I have so little to show. It's been over two years and I've accomplished nothing.

A Rant: Because I can't promise you life

The thought replaying in my mind that from the very moment I was born, I was a failure in everyone's eyes. No, the moment the doctor said, "It's a girl." I was a failure. The moment my mother realized she was pregnant with me, I was her failure.

Almost every weekend that I was home so far, Kelly has been back and she took me away to places all the time and we barely spent much time at home. I felt guilty for abandoning my parents. Now that she left and I have a day and a half left, to just me and my parents.. there is just endless bickering from the moment I wake to the ever-so-real right now. Bickering. Bickering.

Thoughts.

I asked my mom if she was worried that I've never dated yet. She said yes of course, because every parent wants to see their children fulfill their ultimate mission, having children.

And thoughts.

My dad just asked me if I knew which major I was changing into yet. I said I was staying in social work. He asked what if I wanted to learn something else. I said then I'll learn it if I don't like social work.

Out of the group of us 1st generation kids who grew up together on the same block, my two cousins, my sister, and myself.. I went from being the one who showed questionable to extraordinary potential for success. I never planned past my high school achievements. If I did plan for college, I would have stuck with a sport. I would have taken AP Physics. I would have joined band. I would've taken that summer of math classes to match my peers in their advanced arithmetic. I would have joined theater. I would have applied myself more for AP Chem and I would have gotten a 5 instead of a 4 on the credits exam. I would have been more ambitious. That is all if I planned my idolatry a little bit farther.

Thoughts.

Of everyone in my graduating class in middle school, no one, not a single soul would have guessed that I would fail in life. Of everyone in my high school who knew me, none would've doubted my deserved-ness of being a student there, one of the top in the state and in the country.

My sister who will become a successful physical therapist. My future brother who will do great no matter where he goes as an urban planner. My one cousin who will become a great engineer for some big software company. My other cousin who doubted himself, but still was able to find the greater things in life. He has great potential as well and I know it because he is doing what he enjoys and he is faithful to it. But all those things, have they become their identity? at least in the eyes of the people around them?

And me? I assured my dad by saying, "Daddy, I'm a smart girl. I'm going to do great whatever I choose to learn, even if I learn poop" I said it in a confidence like I had a secret where I could turn poop to gold, but that was just a lie I said in attempt to give him ease.

Thoughts

My mom said she can't enjoy a meal if I'm not home. My mom said if neither my sister or I call her, she would go insane. My mom said she hates home when I'm not there. My mom said no one drinks her soup when I'm not home and life is just so bitter. My mom said she can't sleep well at night unless she knows Kelly and I are home with her.

But mama, what if I told you I can't stay?

Please don't live for me, because I can't promise you life.

The one who gives is also the one who takes away.

Please live for Jesus and forget me.

King Jesus, you are victorious!

Wasting Away

Yesterday while I was wasting my thoughts on Netflix, I looked through my clothes. Often when I look through my clothes, I notice that there are so many which I've only worn once or only in the fitting room before I bought them. I tried on some clothes that made me feel very feminine in a pastel and nonchalant-kind-of-way. I quickly changed out of it, deciding that I'll wear it to church the next day. This morning as I excitingly got ready for church, I changed into those clothes I picked out, and as I walked past myself in the mirror, I stopped. And, I felt so ugly and disgusted. I found myself repulsive to look at.

Words like, "What are you thinking? Do you think you look good or something? That doesn't suit you, it can't. Why don't you just wear jeans and a t-shirt? What will people think of you?" And just as I was tugging at the hem of my shirt, ready to lift it over, I looked at myself and thought, "How many times, have I thought these thoughts? How many times have I changed out of clothes because I didn't feel good enough? How many more days will my clothes sit untouched, wasting away in its neatly folded stack? my confidence, wasting away in a crumpled soul? my self-worth, wasting away because of my self-shaming?" And I let go of my shirt, grabbed my bag, and walked out.