Growing up, I had little spiritual or religious teaching and training from my parents.  Despite this, I have always known that we were created for something more than what we saw and touched in this life.  From the early age of eight, I wondered about my meaning and purpose.  I wondered if there was a God and what impact his existence would have on me.  I was very attentive to anything I could learn about eternity from my parents from their Buddhist-influenced Vietnamese traditions.  I looked at different religious paraphernalia that came to our door and turned over the lessons from school about evolution. Still, I felt like none of these philosophies answered my deep questions about life.  

As part of my search for understanding, I began to pray every night to “God” – though who he really was, I did not know.  After several years of this, I questioned my actions. Who was I praying to?  Was God even real?  I decided to embark on a scientific experiment.  It was the summer before eighth grade year, and I was taking Life Science for summer school.  Because of the accelerated time-frame, we had an exam every day.  Every night, I would study and then pray that God would grant me an A.  Sure enough, I would always receive an A!  One night I decided to study as usual but not pray.  Would there be any difference?  God knew this was a critical moment in my journey, so he helped me produce a B on that exam.  When I got my grade, knowing that I had done nothing different the previous night except omit prayer, I knew in that moment that I would never not pray again!

The incident confirmed that prayer mattered but I was still lost.  Loneliness pervaded, and due to some other circumstances in my life, I felt the emptiness so keenly that I became suicidal toward the end of my eighth grade year.  God intervened, however, in the form of a near death experience I had while bike riding.  Bruised and scratched from the incident,I was in awe that I had narrowly escaped death. Something told me that it was not an accident that I was still alive.  And I believed that it was God who spared me from death because he loved me and had a plan for my life.

Still, I did not know that sin kept me separated from this God of love.  I did not know Jesus who could bridge that great divide between us.  The emptiness continued to drag me down like an acme anvil was tied to my soul and spirit.  In high school, I attempted to fill the void by excelling in academics, becoming the best friend I possibly could and in seeking romantic relationships, but none of those pursuits answered the hunger of my soul.   I can still remember coming home from parties and sitting in my room at night feeling an inexplicable darkness engulf me.  The hollowness in my heart was more real than anything else I could taste and touch.  

In my third year in high school, I asked a classmate to take me to his church.  There, I heard the Bible being preached for the first time.  I was captured.  I knew that this was what I had been looking for my whole life.  I felt like my thirsty soul was drinking real water for the first time, because it was the first time that I felt satisfied.

A few months later, I sat in my room reading a gospel tract which explained with clarity my need for Jesus.  I prayed the prayer to accept Jesus as my Savior and, in that very moment, I experienced a peace over my entire being that I had never experienced before.  From that day on, the soul emptiness that had plagued me my entire life was permanently chased away.   

At God’s table, there is abundance of soul-satisfying food and drink.  To this day, I find myself still so eager to come to his table to dine.  There are times when my thoughts are obscured and I think I can find satisfaction from other things, but there is always invitation and welcome at God’s table, and he welcomes me back to my soul’s satisfaction.

The gospel is the salvation for everyone who believes (1:16), and this salvation is received by faith alone, not by works (1:17).  

Again, salvation is:
1.  for everyone who believes
2.  received by faith alone, not by works

Paul explains that this gospel reveals God’s righteousness.  A part of what it means that he is righteous is in how he gives an opportunity for humanity to receive that righteousness.  

This “gospel” is the fact that:
1. God is righteous
2. All people are unrighteous
3. Christ’s life, death and resurrection imparts righteousness on all people who believe 

Incidentally, I would add these truths:
4. All who accept this by faith are declared righteous
5. God’s provision of this affirms his righteousness
6. The gospel, therefore, reveals God’s righteousness (in more than one way)

Thus, those who live by faith are made righteous and they truly live (1:17b).  It is the “power” of God because it is able to make you righteous, whereas nothing else can (not works). 

I was remembering this song last night.  The Bible tells us to”sing a new song”, but sometimes, there is something so profound about singing an old one.  The feelings and emotions, the struggle, the heart-wrenching surrender…all of the prayers that are linked with the song rise to the surface as I sing this song again with new thoughts and feelings becoming intertwined with all the old…and offer my whole life to him again.  Regrets… oh Lord, why would you want them?  Pain… can you really heal them?  Things in the past, things yet unseen…  will you take it all and redeem it?  I give you the best and the worst of me. 

Here’s the song as I remember it.

Lord I Offer my Life to You

All that I am, all that I have
I lay them down before you, oh Lord
All my regrets, all my acclaims
The pain and the joy, I’m making them yours

Things in the past, things yet unseen
Wishes and dreams that are yet to come true
All of my hopes, all of my plans
My heart and my hands are lifted to you

I’ve always wanted to have a dog.  When I was little, we had a dog for a little while, but when we moved, my parents gave her away without telling me, so I never had a chance to say goodbye.  It was heartbreaking not to have any closure when I had such a close bond with her.  I had spent countless days playing with her, talking to her, teaching her things.  She was a real friend, not just an animal, and I loved taking care of her.

We ended up with this little Cocker Spaniel puppy quite impulsively — at least, it might appear that way.  Her previous family had to give her up because of their apartment policy.  They only had three days’ notice.  It was either we took her in, or she would end up at the animal shelter.  What would happen to such a sweet-tempered little puppy if she was thrown into a small pen with a few other dogs?  I just couldn’t bear the thought.  The night that we met her, I negotiated with my rational husband that if it didn’t work out for us, then we could still find a good home for her. 

This was not the first time we had talked about the possibility of getting a dog.  We had been seriously researching the possibility for several months — and had talked about getting a dog since we got married.  Through the years, we would make regular visits to the pet store and would even go to the humane society as our “dates” sometimes.  One of the ways that we know God has knit our hearts together is that my husband and I both have have soft spots for the abandoned, rejected and unwanted.  That’s how we wound up with a guinea pig a few years ago.  (She had been relinquished by someone — just dropped off at the pet store).  That’s also why we were foster parents.  We were so moved by God’s unrelenting call to his people to care for the orphans.  Because we are a people who have experienced so much love, we just can’t help but want to make a way so that others can know how life was meant to be.  “Others” includes dogs and guinea pigs too.

As we’ve had Zoe, the Cocker Spaniel, around for the last two weeks, I’ve become more cognizant of this innate desire I have always had to take care of things.  From plants, to dogs, to guinea pigs, to children to people… I just want to pour myself into God’s creation and watch how they grow.  It is one of the most life-giving things to me to see life being given to others.  Being a pastor, being a mom, being a gardener, being pet owner… all of it echoes back to the very core of my being made in the image of my Creator.

I want to end this blog entry there on that high note, but the reality is that we are not going to be able to keep her.  She is such a good puppy and deserves to be in a home where more attention can be given to her, which will enable her to be the happy puppy that she is (proper training, proper socialization).  It pains me to have to give her up, but I know it is the right thing to do at this juncture in our lives.  And even in this short amount of time together, my life has been enriched by the opportunity to care of this little puppy and teach her new things.  It will be sad when we have to relinquish her next week.  But at least this time, I will get to say goodbye. 

Meet Zoe.  Her name means “life” because she is full of life.

I’ve been learning more recently to have more of a backbone.  I didn’t realize until recently that I have a tendency to be as accommodating as possible to other people’s desires and wishes.  But God has been taking me through a journey of seeking wholeness for my life.  In constantly accommodating for others, I have neglected myself.  I end up doing things that I don’t really want to do.  I end up doing things that God never asked me to do.  As a result, I feel stressed, tired and a great sense of dread about everything.  How can I blame anyone for that but myself?  It’s hard for me to set up boundaries and be firm.  I want to make sure others are taken care of and make sure their needs are met.  But is that my responsibility? 

I’m trying to keep in mind that:

- Even if I have the time, I may not have the emotional capacity. 
- I want to do a few things well, not a lot of things haphazardly.
- Blocking out time to rest and be refreshed is a legitimate use of my time. 
- I only have to be faithful to what God has called me to. 

Pressing into God is like diving into a pool and then realizing you are in an ocean.  The vastness of God is beyond imagination.  I can only conceive of all the space that is in this room and is bounded by the four walls around me, but God is the whole house and the whole world which stretches beyond that.

When God opens the door and ushers you outside and when you’re hit with the endlessness of the waters, it is both terrifying and wonderful at the same time. 

Recently, I have felt more keenly aware of broken relationships in my life.  Sometimes things happen that you can’t understand and though you try to be reconciled, it never gets perfectly mended.  It makes me realize how special my relationship with God is.  With him alone, will I never be misunderstood.  He won’t get offended when I didn’t mean any offense.  He knows my heart and my longing to do the right thing, and he won’t hold against me my mistakes and my blunders.  Who can you go to with your raw feelings?  Who can you share your deepest heart-thoughts?  Who is the only truly “safe friend”?  Only God.  With him, forgiveness is real, it is free and it is forever.  Proving myself is not required as a preliminary for forgiveness, and our relationship can be perfectly mended. 

My prayer recently has been, “Search me, God, and know my heart.  Test me and know my anxious thoughts.  See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting.”  (Ps 139)

At first, I didn’t really want to pray this prayer.  I was fearful of real scrutiny from God — scared of seeing my sinfulness rise to the surface.  Nobody really wants to be confronted by the truth of their ugly self.  But then I was reminded that “sin is broken” and “Christ is risen” and there is victory.  My guilt does not re-convict me and leave me in a place of desperation.  Sin is broken.  His work of atonement covers any new sin that I see uncovered (amazing!).

When I was a freshman in high school, I wrote a line in a poem that still comes back to me:  “dark black paint stared at me.”  Sometimes I feel as though my sins = dark black paint.  And it is awful — the feeling described in the poem.  The confrontation is terrifying.  Perhaps that is the nuance still attached to having my sins revealed:  terror and entrapment.

And God says, “No, it is not like that.”  Bringing your sins to (his) light results in freedom.

Whenever I feel deep anguish, I always return to Psalm 130.  It begins, “Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord; Lord, hear my voice.  Let your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy.”  I feel a deep resonation with these sentiments.  When I pray over them, I feel like I am identifying with Christians throughout history — and myself from years past.  For, a long time ago, before I was a Christian, I came across this psalm, and every night, I would pray over these words (from v.v. 1-2).  So even now when I re-read these words, a flood of emotions come to me from the past, and I am immediately reminded of how God came through for me… and how with him, there is “full redemption.”

As I prepare Bible studies, excitement always wells up within me.  In the Bible, there is incredible potential for transformation and change.  Or as Peter said in John 6,

“Lord, to whom shall we go?  You have the words of eternal life.” 

Yesss!  To whom shall we go? 

There is nowhere else we can go to find the words of
eternal life,
eternal change,
eternal freedom,
eternal peace,
eternal hope,
eternal love. 

We must go to his word to find these things. 

To the ones who don’t understand this or haven’t experienced this, all my anticipation rests on the hope that you will find out soon.  I was made for this!