I recently came to a decision regarding my blogging.  Writing something is better than nothing at all.  It used to be my goal to craft something stupendous — or at least, somewhat polished — rather than throwing up raw thoughts.  But with time so limited in my life these days, I realize that just taking a moment to jot down my current ruminations will make all the difference to me — and perhaps someone else.  My writer’s pride has always flailed against making first drafts public — but God says simply writing will hone my craft.  I have to start somewhere, and that somewhere is right here. 

I didn’t always know that I would become a writer.  My dad, on the other hand, always had a sense that I would.  I know because of the many times he would tell me not to become one while I was growing up. The funny thing was that I wasn’t intending to become one at all.  My dad’s discouragements did not go unheard.  His admonitions made it clear to me that being a writer was not a glamorous job.  I understood that a very small percentage of people write bestsellers, and of those who are regularly employed for writing, the pay is dismal (compared to other noble professions such as being a doctor).  My plan had always been to earn my living through something practical and then write on the side.  But then the older I got, the more I realized what my dad had known all along — I loved  had to write. 

Of course, this didn’t change my plan.  I was en route to becoming a doctor — and nothing was going to change that –

except Jesus. 

When Jesus entered the picture, my perspective on everything became more focused.  Becoming a doctor had never been my idea.  It wasn’t even what I wanted to do.  What did I want to do?  I didn’t know, but I hoped that God would put me on a path where I could make a lot of money.

That lasted about two seconds. 

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy…But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven…“  The purpose of my life pivoted on this very verse.  I began to ask myself questions like — How can I orient my life in such a way that I only invest in the things that last forever?  God, what’s your will for my life?  God, how can I use my gifts for you?

Before I became a Christian, I spent all my time weaving together stories — stories of a world and a life that was better than the one I knew.  After I became a Christian, I started living a life better than the stories I could write.  I have since been swept along by a new current — one that beckons — no, more than that — urges me to voice God’s revelations to me.  I began to recognize that writing was a gift He had given me, and I had to use it for Him.

Having given up my old ambitions of pouring my life into a career simply for the sake of earning money, I was released to dream new dreams.  God gave me new dreams.  And these are the dreams that He has been fulfilling.  And when God fulfills my dreams, I am filled with a sense of awe.  I am awed because when dreams come true in my life, that means God is keeping His promise to me.

It was about four years ago that God confirmed in rapid-fire succession that He wanted me to pursue my writing.  I was cynical and in disbelief.  That’s probably why He had to tell me four times in four different  ways.  It was hard to deny as a result of that.  But having come out of that encounter with God, I was instantaneously slapped with a deathly silence.  I had no inspiration to write.  Four years of wandering ensued, in which I went from writing little to none at all.  At the end of it, I looked back and realized that the wandering wasn’t actually wandering after all. Those years were purposely given to me in order for me to heal, process, redefine and regroup; it was in order for me to have something to write about; and it was in order for me to feel confident to write about it.

Recently, some things have really begun falling into place.  Dreams are bubbling out over the top.  I have been zeroing in on my writing.  Profusely.  And then this and that and another thing happened, and I found myself being offered a job to write.  I’ve never tried ghostwriting before, but it has been a new aspect of writing that I am enjoying developing.  My first paycheck the other week was tangible evidence of God’s confirmation to me.  More than money, all of this is God making His dreams come true in me. 

And one day I will publish a book.  I know it will happen, not because I am driven by the ambition to be famous, but because I am driven by the passion to write.  It’s not only that, but it’s also because God has impressed on my heart that He will give me stories to write and revelations to unveil.  It’s the dream He’s given me.  And because of that, I’m confident that He will make it a reality. 

Ultimately, I’ve come to really grasp that getting compensation for writing is not what makes me a writer.  It’s God who has made me one.  And maybe that’s why my dad always knew it.  It’s because I had always been a writer, all along.

Rejoice with me, dear friends.  I recently submitted a short testimonial to a publication called “Mutuality.”  The editor accepted it for publication a few weeks ago (!) and told me that she hopes I will consider writing for future issues as well (!!)  (she thinks I am a talented writer!!!).    I just got an email from her saying that the issue is now in print.  You can purchase a copy of it here.  Mutuality, Vol 14, Issue 2, p. 26. 

Also…another reason to rejoice:  I was recently asked to join the writing team for The Scroll.  My first entry has been posted!  Check it out here and please leave a comment. 

Yay!! Thanks, everyone, for all your prayers and support for my writing ministry.  The journey’s just beginning!

Praising the Lord,
Mary Ann  

This one was written:  Oct 20, 2005.  I didn’t post it then because it felt so unfinished.  Today, I “finished” it –

I got a C-

My very first college Lit class was “LTEN 144:  the Mid-Victorian Novel” with Professor Berman.   I had left high school believing that I was a pretty darn good writer.  I loved the craft of words, and I loved reading novels and writing an “eloquent” analysis of its literary content.  It all started in second grade when I got second place for a poetry contest.  That was when I realized that writing wasn’t merely copying words out of the spelling book but that you can string it together somehow and create a harmonious melody.  I was further encouraged when in eighth grade, my teacher told me that I had “voice.”  Now anyone can write, but to have “voice” is not something you can conjure.  So it came as a bit of a shock to me when I got my very first paper back from Professor Berman.  I got a C-. That was the first time in my life that I ever got a C on a Lit paper!  It was absolutely humbling!

I’m sorting through my old college papers now, as I’m packing my things for my move back to SD.  If I could, I would frame this very first paper with all of Prof Berman’s black markings all over my paper (he crossed out like half of my first page!).  I needed that dose of humility.  And I still need it today.

By the time I finished my minor in Literature, I had taken three classes with Professor Berman.  In fact, he even smiled at me one day while I was running up the flight of stairs in the Lit building on my way to a dreaded meeting with another Lit professor.  He was the only professor who was able to see through my flowery writing and know that I was writing absolute crap.  He knew, he always knew, that I was flubbing through that part and had no idea what’all the depth of that statement really was about or what the character symbolized.  And while I always hoped he wouldn’t notice when I was flubbing, (he always did by the way), I am so glad now because his sharp eye helped to sharpen my writing skills like none other…

What would we do without a third eye?  My experience with Prof Berman reminds me of, “Nothing in all of creation is hidden from God’s sight…”  (Heb 4:13)  God always knows when we’re flubbing; nothing is hidden from Him!  It also reminds me of, “…God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness.”  (Heb 12:10)  If it was good to be challenged and corrected by my Lit professor, then how much greater is it to be challenged to change by our all-seeing, all-knowing God!

Today, someone asked me how my job-hunt was going.  Instead of the embarrassed hesitation in response to that question, this time, I said, ”God’s led me in another direction.  Instead of pursuing a job, I’m pursuing my writing.”

“I’m gonna be a writer,” is met with an eyebrow raise that can be most closely associated with the word “impractical”.  And there are half a dozen reasons why I, too, would toss my metaphorical pen and make a mad dash for the employment agency rather than make writing my sole pursuit. 

But God.

At the beginning of this past weekend, at the World Christian Conference, I shared with my small group that my hope was that God would give me a bit of insight about whether or not I should pursue my writing.  The thought had crossed my mind the previous Monday, but my lack of faith and another’s made it impossible to proceed forward with the idea.  But perhaps God would show me something during the conference.  Perhaps He would give me peace at least about finding a regular job.  For though I had been searching so many months, I’d had no peace about my job search.  Deep down, I had this nagging feeling like finding a job would just be settling, but I just didn’t have the courage to do otherwise.

Sunday morning, I reflected that the conference was nearly over, but God hadn’t been speaking to me much.  I wondered if He would speak at all.  I wasn’t expecting Him to carve any writing on the wall… but I had hoped that He would give me at least a small nudge in one direction or another.  I felt resigned that there might not be any nudges or hints at all. 

Sunday night, God had some surprises for me.  Toward the end of the plenary session, the speaker said, “…if you feel like God is telling you to write a book, then you should write it.”  I did a double-take.  Did he just say what I think he said?  There was no logical reason in the world why he should say something like that.  It was too random and too pointed to be coincidental. 

And yet I asked, was this God?  Doubts assailed me.  Who am I that God should call me to write?  What if when it comes down to it, I can’t do it?  How is it that God is telling me to do this?  And then I wrote, “Lord, please continue to show me.”

And He did.  Just after I wrote that statement, Pastor John Lo said, “God may be calling you to…write a book…”  My jaw dropped.  I was stunned speechless.  God was answering my request for Him to show me that it was really Him. I was starting to believe that He was trying to tell me something, but He wasn’t finished yet.

After the plenary session ended, my friend Pam ran up to me and said, “I’ve been wanting to tell you all weekend that I think you should write!”  She wanted to tell me all weekend?  This was definitely confirmation #3.

Twenty minutes later, a brother that I had met at this conference but with whom I had never really shared very deeply from my life came up to me and said that he felt like God was telling him to tell me to write.  Confirmation #4.

Where God guides, He provides.  With such rapid-fire succession of confirmations, I have no doubt that He is directing me to pursue my writing in this next season of my life.  The biggest question I have is about my finances. I’m not sure how it will work out, though I know it will.  For now, I’m just walking by faith…

Dear Lord Jesus,

I want to, like the humble saints before me, write to proclaim your goodness, wisdom and love.  I don’t want to write about myself or the great things I have accomplished, because – in reality – those pages would be empty.  I want to write about You.  I want to write what you tell me to write and hold back nothing that would give you the glory even if it means that my life would be laid bare before the eyes of the entire world for scrutiny and criticism.  I want to be as unashamed of you as you have been unashamed of me.  And I want the world to see the unfathomable depth of your love, the gloriousness of your majesty and stand in awe of who you are.  Lord, breathe life into these words I pen, for if you do not, then all is meaningless.  As I am -

meaningless without you,

Mary Ann Nguyen
May 31, 2001

and amen.  Oct 20, 2005

Ever waited patiently for a sun to set over the waters?

It’s the strangest thing.  You wait and wait, and it seems to take so long before the bottommost part of the brilliant fireball actually touches the ocean edge.  But then, for some reason, once it’s hit the ocean, forget blinking lest you miss seeing the ocean swallow the sun.  The sun always seems to disappear before I even realize what’s happening.

Sometimes when the unthinkable is realized, I feel like the same thing has happened.  I wait and wait; it takes so long, but when it finally comes, it happens so fast, I don’t even see it coming.

The day that I won second place for a poem that I had written in second grade was the day that “writing” began to define who I am.  I define writing, but writing also defines me.  It’s always been a passion.  But also always a side-thing.

When I was growing up, my dad would often try to dissuade me from becoming a writer.  I thought it was odd that he would make those crushing remarks because I had never even told him that I loved writing.  I was pretty quiet and uncommunicative as a kid.  How did my dad ever know that I wanted to be a writer?  I don’t know how he knew, but what I did know was becoming a writer as a profession was out of the question.  How many people actually “make it” anyway?  And while I think I have always planned on eventually writing one day – when I have something real to say – I have pretty much put that particular dream on the backburner.

So on Saturday I had the strangest conversation with my dad.  He actually said to me, “Since you’re so good at writing, maybe you should use that.”  He was meaning for me to find a job using it.  What?  I was so shocked by his comment, I couldn’t even believe my ears.  Something amazing must be happening if my dad is encouraging me to write. It was like the sun had set over the waters and I had missed all the warning signs preceding it’s disappearance.  So sudden. 

Strange how it seems that so many things in life always seem to come full circle. Kinda exciting!!

is like

a writer who doesn’t write
an artist who doesn’t paint
a plane that can’t take flight

a car that doesn’t drive
a person who doesn’t breathe
– it’s almost like not being alive.

not being who you were made to be
not doing what you were called to do
a prisoner who’s not set free!

i feel like i’ve been a dreamer who’s been dream-dead… plodding around, accepting things as they are… status-quo, complacent plateau — yes, all that i dread! 

but death no more,
i’m no longer dream-dead,
i’m alive at last.
on the verge of a miracle instead!