So I became a Christian in seventh grade. I knew where I was going when I died. But it took a while before I began to see any “fruit” of the Holy Spirit living inside of me (for those who may not know, we believe that once a person accepts Christ as their Savior, the Holy Spirit comes to dwell in that person’s heart to continue guiding them in God’s truth; Acts 2:38, John 14:26). There were a few different reasons for not seeing much fruit immediately. I was not plugged into a local church (remember, I lived 40 min away from my school), and I didn’t have a personal mentor to teach/disciple me. At the same time, I was going through the teenage years in full force. Peer pressure, insecurity, feeling lost, hormonal changes, etc. – you name it, I experienced it.
Things took a significant turn at the beginning of my junior year. I got my driver’s license and my first car, and I did what many teenagers do…I wanted to fit in with the crowd, so I lied to my parents and went to places without permission. Then I was caught. The way I was caught was so comical/ironic, it had to be God. My parents were not harsh on me, but I’ve always been hard on myself. I felt an overwhelming amount of guilt and shame. I was once again soaked in self-pity. I wondered if I was ever going to be good enough. I wondered if I was ever going to fit in with my peers. I wondered if I was going to be truly happy. I was going through a deep internal downward spiral…and that’s when it happened. That’s when I finally experienced God’s love. Up to this point, I had heard about it, read about it, and thought I believed it. But this was when I experienced it. I tasted and I saw – that God is truly good. And He really loves me, for who I am. It happened through the people God brought into my life at just the right time. It happened through what I read in the Bible. It happened through the worship songs I heard and sang. It happened through the Holy Spirit overwhelming me with emotions I never felt before. I found friends and teachers who guided me in His truth, and I also started attending church regularly for the first time.
In my current study of Christian psychology, I read from author Larry Crabb that every human being has a need for significance and security. We long to find the answer “YES” to the questions: Do I matter? Am I loved? Am I accepted and safe? As human beings, we continually seek sources (in ourselves or in others) that can satisfy these needs. But only ONE SOURCE can completely and unconditionally meet those needs, and that source is Jesus.
Jesus said to the woman at the well (John 4:14):
“But whoever drinks from the water that I will give him will never get thirsty again – ever! In fact, the water I will give him will become a well of water springing up within him for eternal life.”
In the well of God’s unconditional love, I experienced true life and true joy for the first time. It’s not that everything was so horrible before then. It’s not that everything was peachy from that point on. It’s so hard to explain; it was as if a dark, cloudy filter was lifted off from my eyes…and I saw everything in clear light. I no longer was consumed with self-pity. I was excited about living and excited about how God can use me to spread His amazing love to others. For the first time since I could remember, I was thankful for my life and all that He has blessed me with. For the first time, I wanted to live my life for someone else (God) and not be so consumed with myself and my world.
I finally tasted the Living Water…and I was no longer thirsty.
Taste and see that the Lord is good.
How happy is the man who takes refuge in Him!
–Psalm 34:8
As a result, you can show others the goodness of God, for he called you out of the darkness into his wonderful light.
I think writing about my life story (so far) that God has carried me through is a good place to start this new season of my blog with. I hope it will help my readers to understand why my faith is so important to me.
I was born in Japan. Many people assume that most Japanese people are Buddhists. This is not untrue, but it’s not really true either. Many people in Japan practice Buddhist customs out of tradition more than faith. At least that was true for me. Our family would participate in various rituals, ceremonies, and festivals, and I never knew what any of it meant. Nobody would ever explain it to me (probably because they didn’t know themselves). We would have a small shrine of our ancestors in our homes and pray to them, because that’s just what we’ve always done. In reality, I would say most Japanese people are atheists or agnostics. They follow Buddhist customs out of tradition, but they rely on what they can rationalize for truth. Although, since I left there, I’ve heard that many people are now turning to “spiritual mentors” for guidance. From what I understand (don’t quote me on this), it’s similar to the New Age movement.
I think a lot of my perfectionism came from my Japanese culture. It was an environment, at least while I was growing up, of achieving/maintaining excellence and pleasing others. It was a culture that stressed conforming and doing your part to maintain harmony, rather than expressing yourself as an individual. I don’t want you to think it was all bad. My Japanese culture taught me some valuable virtues, such as respecting others (especially elders), living honestly, and pursuing peace, which are virtues that are becoming hard to find in the current American culture.
I always believed in God as far back as I can remember. I just didn’t know “which god” I was supposed to pray to. Many times I would pray and use names of all the gods I knew. From early on, I constantly toiled with the question, “Am I doing good enough?” On the outside, I was always “good.” But on the inside, I knew I had many faults. I remember one particular instance, I think I had forgotten to do my homework…I was praying to the gods, “Will I still make it to heaven?” Even though I acted “good” on the outside, I knew I had “bad” thoughts/feelings on the inside, such as jealousy and selfishness. So I never quite felt certain that I will “make it” to heaven when my time came.
I also remember soaking myself in self pity. I wanted my life to be “normal” like everyone else’s, but I felt that mine was so different. My mom became a single mom early on, and my grandparents raised me. During my elementary years my mom married my step-dad, and I was transferred to an English-speaking school inside a US Air Force base in Japan. It was a lot of changes to handle – meeting new people, experiencing a new culture, and learning a new language. I also found out that we’d eventually be moving to the States in a few years. Looking back, I see how this was all part of God’s plan. But while I was going through it, I remember feeling sorry for myself a lot…because I didn’t know God nor see His hand in any of it…just yet.
It’s amazing to look back and see how intricately God worked out the details of my life. I’m convinced it was no coincidence that my path eventually led straight to Him and His truth. We moved from Japan to Southern California at the beginning of my seventh grade year. I attended a school inside the military base for one week; that was all it took for my parents and me to find out that we didn’t like it. My wonderful parents found a private school for me to attend, 40 min away from the base where we lived. That’s almost three hours of commute everyday for my mom. My parents did this for four years, until my dad retired and we moved closer to the school. For this, I am so grateful. Anyway, this school that they found for me happened to be a Christian school. There, during my seventh grade year, I heard the gospel for the first time.
I love the way Ravi Zacharius puts it (he was raised as a Hindu and later converted to Christianity):
Jesus wasn’t just the best option to me; He was the only option. He provided the skin of reason to the flesh and bones of reality. His answers to life’s questions were both unique and true. No one else answered the deepest questions of the soul the way He did. And because Christianity was true, it was emotionally experienced.
–Ravi Zacharius, Walking from East to West, emphasis mine.
It was SO EASY for me to accept the gospel as Truth. Jesus was the Only One who provided simple answers to life’s questions I’ve been pondering about. It’s not that all my questions were answered. I still struggle with some parts of the Bible that are hard to understand/swallow. Jesus, however, answered the most pressing questions of my soul:
Where did I come from? God created me. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Psalm 139:14.
What is the purpose of my life? God has a plan for my life. I am not here by chance. Jeremiah 29:11; Philippians 1:6.
Where am I going after I die? Is heaven real? If so, what do I have to do to get there? I was created for eternity. Heaven is real. I do not get there by my own good works; God has provided a way through His Son, Jesus. Jesus took on God’s punishment for my sins, so that I can be made right with God. If only I believe this and accept God’s free gift of grace, I will be with God forever in heaven. Ephesians 2:4-10; John 3:16.
On Easter of 1993, I took my first communion. Since then, I have not found any other truth to replace the truth I found in the gospel. No other person or religion or philosophy has been able to answer the above questions like He did. Jesus is it. He is the way, the truth, and the life…no one comes to the Father except through Him (John 14:6).
Funny that I’m using the term “New Year” when it’s already mid-March. My last post was in October of 2013, so yes, life has been busy!
But I am sooo ready to get back into the blogging world. I hope my readers (and some new ones) are ready to jump back on the journey with me!
A quick recap of 2013 – I started out the year with my goal of being “TRUTHFUL” (click on link to read my post on this). 2013 has taken me on an unbelievable journey. First, it was a journey of trying to be more truthful in my interactions with people close to me (instead of always trying to please them). Then in the second half of the year, life took some unexpected turns and the word “truthful” took on a different meaning. I came to a place where I had to face some “truths” about myself. This was very hard and humbling. It’s actually a process that’s still going on, and when I’m ready, I will be sure to blog all about it. Then towards end of the year, God brought me to a place of true WORSHIP. He reminded me that being TRUTHFUL – being TRUE to myself – was really about fulfilling the ultimate purpose for my life…which is to be a WORSHIPER of God. I was created to WORSHIP. This is my true identity. This is where I can be the most truthful – to myself, to God, and to others.
I know it’s pretty vague – but I had to write that for myself as a quick summary of 2013. Again, I will write more on all this later.
This brings me to 2014. For the past few years, I have sought God to give me a word that sort of describes my goal/mission for the year. This year, it couldn’t fit into a single word. My phrase this year is “In His Presence.” This year, perhaps more than ever, I need His presence. I need it constantly. I need it every minute of every hour. I NEED Him. I want to be more intentional about staying in His presence…being in sweet communion with Him constantly. It’s so necessary yet so hard to do, especially as a mother of three!
Blogging really helps me to be in His presence…because most of the time when I blog, I’m reflecting on something He has taught me in the past or is currently teaching me. I am reminded of His goodness and His faithfulness as I reflect on my life experiences.
Some changes…
In addition to a new blog design (a BIG thanks to my friend from Blue Yonder Design), I want to make some changes to my blog. I felt like I was all over the place with this blog. I want to concentrate on specific topics at a time (maybe write 2-3 posts in a row on a particular topic), instead of picking a topic randomly and moving on to something else on the next post.
Here are some topic series that I have in mind….
How to choose the right kind of spouse
Practical tips on raising a strong-willed child
Practical tips on helping your children develop loving sibling relationships
How to effectively communicate with your spouse
In a nutshell, I want to make my blog more focused and practical.
After 7.5 years of marriage, we’re still working on this thing called communication. I’m sure it’s a lifelong process. It continually amazes me to see just how different men and women really are.
During our dating stage, we experienced MANY bumps on the road in this area. Not only did we face the typical gender differences, we also came from two opposite backgrounds in the way we communicate. Allan’s style was “Fight to Win” (who can prove their point the best). My style was “Withdraw” (not be forthcoming but give subtle – or not so subtle – hints that I’m offended). These two styles combined made one big mess, with lots of emotional breakdowns (on my part) and equal amount of frustrations (on Allan’s part).
Most men want to fix. Most women just want to be heard. We realized this pretty early on (as we faced week after week of communication glitches during our dating/engagement year). All the practice definitely paid off and we both began to improve in our communication. But there’s always more to learn.
Lately Allan seemed to be following the rule of “DO NOT TRY TO FIX” like it’s the law. So much so that he became hesitant to say anything when I was pouring my heart out to him. He would be dead silent. Not only that, he didn’t give out any kind of nonverbal response either. I began to feel like I’m talking to a wall.
I used to be very hesitant to tell him how I want him to respond or what I want him to say. It’s like I’m giving him a script – how romantic is that!? However, after talking to some married women who have gone before me, I realized that sometimes, I have to help him out…because the truth is, men really have no clue what women want/need during our emotional moments. Remember all those hours on the phone you spent consoling your girlfriend about her latest breakup? Yeah, our husbands never did that. They are not wired like us (women are made to comfort and nurture), nor did they gain much experience in this area in their man-circle.
So yes, sometimes…we just have to SPELL IT OUT.
I’m not talking about nagging. That’s just annoying for anyone to endure. I’m talking about those moments when I’m pouring my heart out – and I know he wants to help. He really does care, you know. Most of us are blessed enough to be married to a good man. But in that hard-pressed moment when I’m being an emotional basket case, he has little clue on how to show that he cares, other than by trying to come up with a solution.
This is what it looked like for us during our last heart-to-heart.
(These were some of the responses Allan gave to my emotional turmoil, after I told him I don’t want him to just be silent).
A: Maybe we just need to talk more about stuff like this everyday…. Maybe we need more date nights….
Me: Those are more “solutions.” What I really need right now is Compassion…to know that you care about my pain…to know that you hurt when I’m hurting.
A: Of course I care. That’s why when you’re under stress, I try to help in any way I can….do the dishes, laundry, etc….
Me: I know, and I appreciate all that. But I’m talking about THIS MOMENT…here and now. When I pour out my deepest feelings to you, in this moment, I want to know that you care about what I’m going through.
A: I obviously do care…well, I guess it’s not so “obvious” as I thought. Sometimes I don’t know what I can/can’t say to show that I care. I feel like I’m treading on thin ice.
Me: I understand how you’ve come to feel that way, from our past conversations. But any words of compassion will do. You can say, “I’m sorry to hear you’re going through this….”
Our conversation significantly improved after this. I thanked him for engaging in the conversation and responding with warmth. I told him that was very helpful. He confirmed that he understood what I was trying to say: “You don’t want to feel like I’m just twiddling my thumb thinking, When is this crazy girl going to be done with her emotional rants?” EXACTLY! That’s precisely what I was trying to communicate to him.
I later told him that any form of physical touch would help too (holding hands, letting me cry on his shoulder, etc.). We both decided that sitting across from each other at the table (as we were doing) was probably not the best setting to talk. We want to be sitting on the same side. After all, we’re playing on the same team…and ladies, that’s pretty much all the assurance we’re looking for during those moments…right?
So romantic or not, I agree with my mentors – sometimes, in a non-judgmental, non-nagging way, we just have to spell it all out for our gents.
C-O-M-P-A-S-S-I-O-N. It’s not spelled S-O-L-U-T-I-O-N. It’s not spelled E-X-P-L-A-N-A-T-I-O-N. And the very latest lesson was that it’s not spelled N-O-R-E-S-P-O-N-S-E.
As we learn more about each other and as we gain more practice, I know the journey will keep getting sweeter and sweeter. Love it!
I think every housewife/mom can relate to these moments. Moments when you feel undervalued, under-appreciated, and overworked. Dishes. Laundry. Diaper changes. Cooking. Serving. Driving. More dishes. More laundry. Husband comes home late from a hard day at work. But oh, do not tell me about a hard day…thanks to you being late, my hard day was made longer. Let’s talk ungrateful kids. I take all this time to plan our weekly menu, picking out what’s healthy yet yummy, go grocery shopping, do all the prep work, and even bake my own bread, only for them to tell me, “Mommy, I don’t like it.” Really!? Then there’s the hair. Oh the hair. My Goliath that I have to face every morning. They complain that it hurts. I can’t get them to be still. Their frustration turns into my frustration and vice versa. At the end of it, even Allan is frustrated listening to all this madness taking place. He blurts out, “You know, you really should figure something else out for hair…maybe something easier.” WRONG COMMENT, Buddy!!! Your non-morning-person of a wife, who was already hot, just got hotter (and I don’t mean in an attractive way). My breaking point was this: in midst of all this frustration, Peanut asked me to help her put on her socks. I stopped all the housework I was doing (for them, mind you), and helped her put her socks on. They were really tight, so it took me a few minutes. Afterwards, instead of a “thank you,” what I received was: “They’re too tight.” That was it. I was done. I just walked into my bedroom, took all the self-control I had to not slam the door behind me, and went into my closet to defuse. I didn’t have to explain anything to Allan. He knew he had to take over from there.
After Allan came home from dropping Peanut off at school, we had a heart-to-heart over coffee (as we always do when I have these moments). I sobbed and told him how I truly felt (as I always do at these heart-to-heart conversations). “It’s like I’m trying so hard and nothing gets appreciated. Instead, what’s always pointed out is something wrong that I’m doing.” I hate these moments…because the “ME monster” in me comes out and can’t be restrained. What about ME? Think about ME. ME. ME. ME! Yet I can’t help it sometimes. Allan is always so gracious with me, calmly listening and taking in what I have to say. He even apologized for the hair comment earlier; he said he was only trying to help. I already knew that. I told him I’m just irritated…and I’m venting. He prayed for me.
I then went into the bedroom and opened a book that I’ve been reading. It happened to be on a chapter that spoke to the very place where I was at. I love how God does this…all the time.
The chapter was about bowing our work to God in worship. Doing every task, no matter how small or mundane, as an act of worship to God. Here are some quotes that I read that day:
“To work is to worship; to worship is to work.”
“Lord, let each task…diaper changes, preparing meals, washing clothes, answering my two-year-old’s endless questions…be done as an act of worship to you.”
“Do your best. Work from the heart for your real Master, for God, confident that you’ll get paid in full when you come into your inheritance. Keep in mind always that the ultimate Master you’re serving is Christ.” Colossians 3:23-24 The Message Bible
“He sees and values all that you do when you do it for Him.”
“We feel that we must achieve to feel significant, but God says, ‘Be faithful in your work, my daughter, and you will find significance in my sight.'”
“In God’s eyes, there is no division between the scared and the secular. He is the Creator of all. ALL your work is important to Him! He is in all, over all, and longs for you to glorify Him in all…for you to lift up your work as worship to Him.”
“Work becomes sacred based on how we perform it.”
I hate cleaning. Absolutely hate it. But I do it, with my youngest daughter following me around with a duster, with worship music on full blast. This is my sacred act of worship.
I am an introvert and would rather spend all day working on a project or writing or reading. But I pick myself up, go over next week’s meal plan, and start making my grocery list (I would much rather be using that same laptop to blog!). It’s all for God. This is the spot, this is the role, this is the season He has entrusted me with. It will never come back again. Every little act of service I do for my family is ultimately for God. It all becomes my sacred act of worship.
Since then, I try to remember this truth: in God’s eyes, there is no division between sacred and secular…between mundane and significant. When it’s done for God’s glory, it all becomes sacred and significant.
God really wanted me to know that on that day. If you can relate to the kind of day I described, I know He wants you to know that, too. When you feel undervalued, HE sees great value in you AND your work. When you feel under-appreciated, HE wants to shout, “THANK YOU…for taking care of My children (husband included). P.S. You are also increasing your inheritance in heaven.”
I think it’s OK to have one of those crazy moments…when we can no longer hold in our frustrations. But always, I find my way back to resting my soul in the presence of God. That’s what I did on this day, and Jesus sweetly whispered to me, “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40).
