The reminiscent eggroll

To remind myself of the value of an American dollar, I worked this Christmas Eve and Christmas at one of the only places open during the holidays, a Chinese restaurant. I'm reminded of the summer time when I worked part-time here, and it's the same.. the ugliness brought by the over privileged.

You come in and believe that once you leave, you leave, but no.. I will remember you. I remember the family two years ago who spoke in Spanish, because I understood their conversation and what they said about me. I remember the blonde family that came in and held hands to pray before eating. I remember the family of four who came politely and ate their food quietly, and left. I remember you. I remember all of you, you assholes. Put that on your Sarah McLachlan hallmark card. (disclaimer: not everyone was an asshole, some people were actually very nice, but one bad customer can dampen the whole experience, and I'm just trying to be funny).

Christmas Eve. I made $30.15 in tips in a 12 hour shift.
Christmas, I made $102 in tips in an 8 hour shift. That came along with new memories of people I can never forget. Merry Christmas to you, too.

Every time I come here, working several feet away from my dad, I'm reminded of all the crap he has to go through and why he goes through it. Rolling these eggrolls is a matter of sacrificial love. That love I receive from my parents is amazing. It really puts me at awe to see how they embrace me and Kelly in terms of providing for us. They love us madly in that regard. I want that if I ever marry someone. I want sacrificial love in him, love overwhelming, love so beautiful, love so abundant that it's almost too profound, too heavy for one person to receive.. love that resembles grace..  (like when Jesus washes his disciples feet; it was disturbing as a matter of fact)

That's why I have a hard time with my parents. They love me so much, sometimes I feel I have become something of an idol. The instinctive collectivist nature to respond to such sacrificial love is painfully conflicting with my desires for my own individuality and independence. Maybe if people treated my parents better despite their low-wage jobs, I'd feel less guilt knowing that they do this for me.

Sometimes I can be exaggerated or overly sensitive, but for my feelings, however fleeting, they are real and passionate to the moment. Working catering these two days brings me great disdain for a future in human services, even a future in ministry. People can be so angry when they're hungry. Putting yourself in less privileged positions opens your eyes to the structure of the roles. Because privilege is blinding, you don't see what your words or actions look like. The greatest tippers, are probably past or current waiters/waitresses. The most inclined to acknowledge a need for Jesus, are probably those who recognize the depth of their sin.

41 “Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii,[c] and the other fifty. 42 Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?”

43 Simon replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.”

Luke 7: 41-43

The process of making ourselves less, to see more of Christ in us, so we can be like him, see like him, live like him.

When will I get my s together?

Matt. 28// I want full-time

 Propelled by fear that is accompanied by joy.. or is it just fear itself? There has been something beautiful about fear in the study of matthew. "Do not fear, it is me. Take heart. Do not be afraid." This semester I have been so afraid. Afraid of not meeting my parents' expectations. Afraid of graduating and not knowing where I'll be afterwards. Afraid of loneliness. Afraid of the unknown.

In Matthew 28, there is this beautiful illustration of commanding and responding. Pretty much what happens is, the two Mary's approach the tomb. There is an earthquake, and the sight of this angel terrifies the shit out of these guards.

The angel tells the Mary's, Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus... Come and see the place where he lay. 7 Then go quickly and tell his disciples...” 

8 So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. 

Then Jesus greets them, and says to them "Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me."

The guards had a contrasting response. They also went and told. They told the chief priests and elders, who then tells them to lie and to not be afraid because they would be kept out of trouble. The guards were solely afraid, they had no joy in that news. 

However, because Jesus has all the authority, we, as disciples, are to go and make disciples, to baptize, to teach. 

Go, because you recognize the authority, the identity of the one who commands you. 

Go because you recognize the peace and the truth that comes with the message. 

Go because the natural response of knowing God is to go and tell others, to go and make disciples.

"All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19 Therefore [you] go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age"

I have a nightmare too

I have anxiety problems. I am overly emotional and face life with my heart glued to my forehead. It guides me. It consumes me. It is demanding and unable to be silenced.

Sometimes the world feels like it's too much, too dark, too painful. I have been seeking counseling to help unravel my misery, my anxiety, my thoughts.. to get to the root, to find the pattern, to break the cycle.

From my infantile state, poison was spoken into my life.
They hate us because you're not a boy. 
They look down on us because of you and where your mom is from. 
They will never love your mom or you. 
Why are you so stupid? 
Why do you bother to go to school when you're just so useless?

Sometimes life feels like a nightmare, like an endless track of horror on replay. What is going on? When will it end? When will it stop? When will I be whole?
Slowly, Victoria. The answer is 'slowly.'
I have been in this cycle for 21 years. The answer is slowly. I can't go home. My nightmare is still playing. It wants to eat me alive. It wants my soul. If I don't wake up, it will have it.

Ripping

What sin did I commit to feel as torn as I feel? What treachery were of my words to be looked at with such contempt? What cause do I have to have such a wretched heart so ugly and displeasing, that in my seeking to please my Father would bring shame to my family? What the freak?

A place to rest my head

My heart is heavy, my head is light. God, where are you? God, where are you? God, where are you?

To the One who refreshes my soul

Hear my heart and its weariness. I offer up my praises and worries as offering to you, the one I trust with my entire life. I am a dumb sheep, vulnerable to traps, deception, and despair. Yet, you found me and kept me in your sights, so I will follow your precepts forever.

09-29-2012

Just as Phillip was obedient to God and evangelized to the Ethiopian Eunuch, Phillip could have disobeyed. He could’ve said, “God, this is a little weird. What are the chances someone would listen? What are the chances some heart would change?” But Phillip didn’t doubt God sovereignty in commanding. Phillip followed God’s calling and evangelized and shared the good news of Jesus, and baptized the Eunuch immediately! Man that was awesome. If Phillip chose to not respond, God could still have reached the Eunuch in different ways, but Phillip would’ve missed out in so much. It’s really God’s grace to be called to serve His kingdom. It’s grace to testify His mercy, this love. 

Shit Color

"Don't stand in the sun or you'll turn into a 黑鬼," said mom. Letting go of her side, I clenched my fists, widened my eyes, and walked in the sun through the streets of Hong Kong in rebellion to my mom's comment. I was a stubborn and prideful child. Growing up, I recollect many of the comments made about my skin which is tan like leather, beige like mud, brown like shit.

I am amazed and dumbfounded, because I just realized how ugly I am.

"You're so black, I thought you were Filipino. I can't believe you're Kelly's sister. I would never think you were Chinese, because you're so black."
"Why are you so black?"
"This one is so black."
"Why are you so black, is the sun hotter in America?"

All these comments, I've heard all my life and I received them as observations, because I am tan, I am dark. I know this and I have never tried to hide my skin color, nor have I ever been ashamed of it. I've always known that my Asian culture had a preference for light colored skin, but I just realized today my people think I am ugly because I am dark. They literally think I am ugly. They literally think I look like shit color and I am disgusting. I told my dad what I realized and he said yes, of course. I feel so shocked. I feel so angry. I feel so sorry for my people that they could be so wrong. I feel so stupid because, I had no idea that I am shit colored.

A Walk Through Memory Lane Pt. Nightmares

This weekend was like a blast of the past. I got home late from camp, and after getting cleaned up, I chatted with my mom. There is a terrible and dark nightmare that my mom has. Sometimes when she couldn't get the nightmare out of her mind, she would tell sis and me about it. Bits and pieces of the nightmare would haunt her in many occasions, slowly creeping into the fore thoughts of her subconscious. They were slyish lies that wrung so tightly around her soul, trying to suffocate and break her. The nightmare was actually not a dream; it was her life for many years. The neglect, the abuse, the cursing, the displeasure, the pain, the chaos,  even the time we met face to face with the point of no return. As we got older and more rude, whenever my mom would begin to tell us of the nightmare, sis and I would get impatient and tell her to forgive, forget, and move on. While her children told her to shut up, some called her a liar and many worse things, warping the truth and crushing her spirit.

Last night, mom told me parts of the nightmare again. She gave me a disclaimer that while she is not trying to hold a grudge against what the people have done to her, the nightmare was a part of her life that she couldn't ignore. This time the nightmare was different. I realized, the nightmare of her past has become her testimony. It is no longer chaining her down. The curse is broken. The redeeming good news of Jesus rendered those lies powerless. Her nightmare is no longer a nightmare, now, it is a testament to God's glory, God's good purposes.

As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.     Genesis 50:20

Lord, cover my eyes and let them rest. Lord, close my wounds and let them heal. Lord, lift my feet and let them stand.

Dry Spell

For three weeks, after my very short missions trip to St. Louis, where I "encountered" God everyday in study, quiet time, service, worship, and just about every moment, I was in a season of utter "Bleh." Back to reality, like the Eminem song. Oh, there goes gravity. Numbness, again, because I fear that any abrupt movement might tear my fetal heart.  So I stay still, very still. Routinely going about the day. Sleepless nights, wakeless days. Sitting in class, looking forward to the light buzz I'll find at home to ease my nothing. Sitting in class, distracted, but hearing about addiction and depression and disorder like a stuck track. No I'm pretty sure I'm not addicted. Depression, it's the common cold of psychological illnesses anyways.

I was very quick to judge. I was defensive. I doubted people's genuine-ity and care. I wanted to be alone. I wanted people around me to drown the mosquito pangs of my rampant thoughts. I wanted to keep busy. I wanted to sleep. I couldn't sleep. I wanted this season to pass without going through the soul-purging process of taking sin out of my life.

I take a step back and look at my life and I can't help but think, 'What the eff' did I do?' Numbly, I go home for my mom's baptism. Dad tells me I'm throwing my life away in my major. We argue. I dared to say that he is disappointed in me as a daughter because I can't repay the debt I owe in exchange for everything he and mom had given me. I accused him of conditional love. I accused our relationship of being like that of a bank and a borrower. Return with interest. Return this debt with my own life. I told him the pressure of them giving me their everything is too much.

I am killing my parents. They are crying out, begging me, bargaining with me to at least double major in something 'worthwhile.' "What are you going to do with social work? Are you planning on marrying a rich doctor?" The more they ask, the more I feel tugging at me.. no I don't want to do social work, I want to do ministry. That would break their hearts even more, wouldn't it?

If I had an infinite amount of material wealth, my first thing to do is to pay off my parents' mortgage. I would pay off their debts. Then buy them nice things: house, car, hacky sacks, new clothes so mom doesn't have to wear hand-me-downs from our bourgeoisie relatives. So everyone in the family can shut the eff' up and stop looking down on others. Then I don't need any of the wealth. Just give it all to them, so I am free. I can live my life and they know that I have received their love and I am truly grateful. I can bring them early retirement, take the work from them. Oh how sweet. But the fact that my mom knows Jesus as savior is an infinite times better than that. So I'll choose that over infinite material wealth any day. And for my dad, too.

Spring Break Blues

Last year after a heart wrenching 10 days on my first overseas missions trip in the Dominican Republic, I went through a mild state of ceaseless crying and homesickness. I contemplated dropping out of college and moving back in with my parents. I instant messaged my dad saying "I love you" and with what little he knows about technology, he replied "me too". And I wept. I felt so far. Far from God. Far from dad and mom. Far from Kelly. Far from people who loved me and babied me. I was also coming more to grips with pathetic self-esteem after my confession that turned into a rejection. A broken car. A new roommate. A major I hated.

I still need closure. Memories of the two years I spent as a pilot still haunt me like a nightmare. The gossip. The accident. The night flight. The landings. The ground classes. The safety reports, hah.. The flight to evansville airport. I made so many mistakes. It was hard to look at myself.

Now I am back in the same room after a year and another spring break trip. I had a spontaneous trip to Chicago for two days right after I came back from the St. Louis missions trip. It was hard to leave, but not as hard as one year ago. Where I bawled and said I didn't want to go back [to Carbondale]. I cried while driving back, actually leaving several hours later than I planned. I prayed out loud to God until I felt like I lost my voice.. asking Him to help my heart. Oh Lord, I take pity on the person I was a year ago for the things I was feeling.

This spring break at City Lights was breathtakingly amazing. It was basically a week of manual labor and full on God through serving eyes. This post will not do it justice. After my first two days of laboring, I was frustrated and I felt so spiritually dry. I said to myself, I hope I won't have to do this kind of work in my future. While I was raking in the beating sun for 6 hours, I realized that the work I was doing was comparable to work I might do to get paid. Instead, I was giving money to work.. Having felt prompted with the song lyrics in my mind "I will go. Lord, send me. I will follow you.." A question protruding before all other thoughts "Will you really?" I was shocked by my own ugliness and I answered in my heart "Yes, my Lord Jesus. Yes!" Because you are the best thing for me.

My call to commitment:

Lord, help me say Yes to you everyday.

It's Green Where You Water It

Where do I report a drought? We are dying of thirst.

"I don't believe in best friends"

I don't believe in best friends, because best friends just break your heart.

My heart cries out, I can't trust anyone. But this isn't time for a stupid pity party. No one should trust me either, because I am human and I am sinful. Give me your entire heart, and I will break it even if I love you with all of mine.  Every year around this time (my birthday, not valentines days), I'm reminded of loneliness. I came alone. I am alone. I leave alone.

No one to talk to but God. No one to cry to but God. No one to listen but God.

People are disgusting.
People are deceitful.
People are selfish.
People are cruel.

Let me step back in my judgement.

Lord, I am disgusting.
Lord, I am deceitful.
Lord, I am selfish.
Lord, I am cruel.

Thank you for still loving me. Help me love like you.