The same question permeated my mind, yet again.
"What am I doing here?"
In 2012, I made the decision to pursue my education in the U.S. After my SPM trials, I signed up for ADP with my SPM forecast results, with a plan to do my first two years here and finish up the remaining two years abroad.
Once out of the penitentiary they called high school, I was on fire. The sparks of dissension that I'd kept inside for eleven years in conformity to the education system had been fan into flames, and I was convinced it could not be put out. Having been told by countless teachers that psychology was a degree attained in vain, with no credible prospects, I was determined to prove them wrong. I wanted to show them that I was the real deal, that I was truly passionate about psychology and all those other numbskulls just weren't doing it right and in not doing so, were tarnishing the name of those who actually took the profession seriously.
And so I had college all planned out - get into a good undergraduate psychology program in an accredited university and graduate with highest honors, use those credentials for a good clinical psychology program in graduate school and graduate with a Masters, and then perhaps do a PhD. And once I was done with school, I'd come home and save Malaysia from moral decay, with whatever that I'd learned. I had plans, and I was convinced they'd come to fruition.
But it is God who directs our steps.
"What am I doing here?"
A day ago, I was walking back to the apartment with some of the international students, who were having a conversation about careers. Somehow during the conversation, one of the guys mentioned that the corporate world was a bitter place. Having sentiments of my own regarding the prospect, naturally, I spoke.
"This is why I don't want to work in the corporate world. I'd rather just be a part of clergy. Well, that's not that easy either, but at least I'm doing the work of the kingdom. I really don't know what I'm doing here. I should be in a seminary studying theology."
I couldn't be gladder for the silence that ensued and the fork that split our paths. I bid the guys farewell and took off.
This was not, the first instance, that I'd uttered something like that amongst the crowd I was with.
Over the course of three months back in Malaysia, the mystery of the gospel was revealed to me. Yet, God's plan of redemption did not begin so recently. I had already spent a year of struggling with church and my discovery of the God of the Bible through Christian Fellowship. I spent five months taking New Testament Survey, and learned to see the significance of Jesus in a way I never had before. And when I returned home over the summer, I was able to plug back into CF and study Colossians, and attend a different church, where gradually, the gospel began to unfold and the picture became clear to me. When I understood the sovereignty of God in His saving work, and the greater picture of God's plan of reconciliation, Scripture began to make sense. When I saw the sufficiency of the work of the incarnate word and the inscripturated word, I realized I had lived a life of pride and self-righteousness - of rebellion. Repentance was in order, and I was renewed. And yet, I am continually being renewed.
I had tasted the goodness of the Lord. I couldn't imagine going back to a life lived out of selfish ambition, no matter how inclined I was to succumb to it.
On one hand, a great weight was lifted off my shoulders. I could see the power of the Cross, and trust in God's sanctifying work in my life. On the other, I was perturbed. I had made many decisions out of selfish ambition, and well, the costly dream of studying in the U.S. was one of them. While my heart may have changed, I still had to face the consequences of my decision. At this point, I wanted so badly to remain in Malaysia and devote the rest of my life towards ministry, because there was a lot of work in preaching the gospel that had to be done at home. But I could not bring myself to do it, because while I could disregard the pains I had taken to be halfway across the world, I could not dismiss my parents' sacrifices. They'd paid so much to have me here. They'd worked so hard, even when they didn't have to, just so I could achieve this, well, dream. I needed to take responsibility for my actions, because I needed to honor God by honoring my parents too. It seemed like I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
For a while I felt like I was living with the consequences of my actions, that this was second best, since I'd chosen self over God prior to this. I wondered to myself why I'd discovered the gospel at such a time as this, where it seemed to be a crucial transition point in my life. I wasn't ending something or beginning something new. I am halfway through college, and there are expectations I need to live up to. I couldn't very well choose to drop out of college, not after I'd convinced my entire family that I was certain of my orientation in life.
"What am I doing here?"
I realize it is truly by the grace of God that I am here. Today, I am reminded that the sovereign Lord has known this and let this occur for a reason. And because He is sovereign, He is using my mistakes, the steps I take, to work out His plan, for His glory. That's truly something to be thankful for.
I had social psychology class this morning. We were learning about the self, and at this point my professor was holding a discussion about self-esteem. He was using the example of a speaker at convocation, who was going on and on about how God needs "you" and wants "you" to be lifted up as a person for His glory. While he didn't believe that it was completely untrue that God does use people for His glory, my professor was rather disturbed that there was so much emphasis on God needing us, rather than us needing Him. Such language promoted the elevation of the self, rather than God, and exposed the true state of Christianity in the hearts and minds of the American people. They'd wanted God, church and morale, and yet they'd wanted individualism, capitalism and right to bear arms. But they couldn't have both, and well, my professor just put it out there plainly.
However, while he'd said that, he also said that "I don't agree with preaching that completely elevates the self, and neither do I agree with preaching that considers us rubbish, or the scum of the earth." I saw his point, but I couldn't really agree with that. So I timidly raised up my hand.
"We are rubbish. We are scum. But the thing is, we are saved by grace. We are nothing, but God's grace on us changes that - it gives us hope. So I don't think it's completely right to say we're not rubbish because we are, but the point is not that it leads to hopeless despair. It's the understanding that God has redeemed us and therefore we live a life of humility and hope, knowing it is His grace that gets us through."
And when he asked about our perception of self-esteem, yet again I gave input. A girl before me had explained that it is good to have some amount of self-esteem, with the story of how she was raised in a Christian family that taught her that no one was any entitled or special, that all were saved by grace and, but that because of that same grace also, we were able to do whatever we had to do. I agreed with that, but I wouldn't have called it self-esteem, I opined. As Christians, if we truly live by the grace of God, we wouldn't be surviving on account of confidence in ourselves, but confidence in God.
It was probably a radical thing to say, because at the end of class, a girl came up to me and introduced herself. She was thankful that I'd been bold enough to speak up for what I believed in, and saw that even in a psychology class that God was present and sovereign. I thanked her for telling me that, and yes, I spent the entire day pondering.
So why is this important?
While I was back in Malaysia, there was a point where I contemplated aborting operation and just remaining home, because I had heard from my peers the stories of their comrades aborting their mission by being abroad. They've had friends who went to the U.S., who were extremely convinced that missions could take place abroad, only to realize that Americans are a difficult bunch to evangelize to. Some realized the futility of the endeavor, while others were sucked into the cycle of complacency, that remains to many Christian college students, a constant threat.
On one hand, I was afraid. Would I get sucked in too? On the other hand, I was bent on staying hardcore - I'd stay connected with people back home as fervently as I could, I'd find a good Reformed church here and find community to be accountable with and I'd build relationships with people who I know could be a potential disciple, and help them learn the bible. Having chosen to continue here, I had to go with the latter. I was going to persevere, and I wasn't going to let those "liberal Americans" get to me.
With that mindset, I had painted a bleak picture for myself. I convinced myself that Americans were all alike - that none of them were real Christians to begin with (ugh, liberals lol). I reasoned that the local church was horrifying in their theology and doctrine, and were hopeless. I thought of life here as a bad dream, all while waiting to graduate and be completely free to partake of the obedience of faith for the rest of my life. Like yes lah, right, follow Jesus for the rest of my life, onz wehh. All this other stuff rubbish weh. But until then, I'm going to have to keep fighting for the Truth and remain hostile to sin.
The past week saw me slip up, by forgetting God's sovereignty in my life and ceasing to trust Him to be faithful even when I was not. But today reminded me God is in fact in control, even if I forget that He is. I'd skipped the possibility that God has His chosen people here in America too, and I'd ceased to give them the benefit of the doubt. I thought capitalism and individuality had swallowed everyone (lol). I assumed all people think church is just about being good, and they know nothing else, and well, that was "common sense".Guess I was wrong, and well, I was glad to be, this time.
I can be so stupid. But praise God that He knows what He's doing at all times and is merciful upon a feeble human being like me!
It's not going to get easier from this point on. It's the second week of class and I'm already finding myself having to live up to the faith that I profess with my mouth and have tattooed on my heart. I realize I need to be discerning in my speech, so that all things may be done for His glory. Yet, I know that there are some things that just need to be said, and they typically will be offensive and controversial, because the word of God is alive and active, and sharper than any two-edged sword, cutting through the soul and spirit, joint and marrow. But this is how we work out our salvation and preach the gospel, be it in class or on the pulpit.
"What am I doing here?"
I think I'm beginning to have a sense of what it means to be Christian now. It's some badass shit. And you never know what'll happen to you in America. I could get gunned down for offending someone (thank you Texas).
But no matter how pee-in-my-pantsy-feely I get, I'm just gonna have to trust God and continue to preach Christ crucified.
