"Do you really want to do this? Is psychology what you want to do?"
I might have said yes, but I really don't know.
Sure, I have it all in my head. I'm going to finish my degree here in the States, do my optional training for a year, sit for my GRE and get into graduate school to do a masters in child psychology or family/marriage counselling. It's all laid out, right?
Right?
While this might seem like a reason for concern, honestly, I'm not too worried. I know I've heard stories of many doing a degree in one field before stepping into a career that is absolutely different from what they had initially envisioned, raising concerns about the validity of investing in tertiary education. I've heard stories of gratitude from those who pursued their dreams, and tales of those who have wallowed in regret.
But what if that's not important?
What if I don't have to choose?
What if I don't have to pursue my dreams?
What about looking at opportunity instead?
I don't believe in restricting my career choices to a dichotomy of doing psychology or not doing psychology. I could still utilize my psychology degree in other fields, and even if I do end up becoming a family psychologist, that's not all that I am. I could be more.
And honestly, I don't think I even have to believe in the idea of destiny. That God has that ONE plan and purpose. Why does it have to be? Is that even biblical/godly in the first place?
If anything, it's outlined in His word that we are to become more Christlike, to pursue holiness and make disciples of all nations. Our lives are His, and well, no matter what I do, or where He takes me, there is always an opportunity to glorify Him.
So I really don't think I should be worried. Really.
Showing posts with label study abroad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label study abroad. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Friday, March 6, 2015
Evolution
The Vivian of two years ago would not have done what I just did in this past week.
She would not have had the courage to ask anyone if she could be a part of something they were a part of. She would have thought too much about things that she just never ended up getting anything done, because she was scared. She would have questioned her motives, and when the pressure kicked in, blame someone else for her own misfortunes.
Vivian is evolving.
I refuse to curl up into a ball in my bed and forget about this world, like I once did. I refuse to blame someone else for the things that don't go right in life. I will cry when I am sad and laugh when I am happy, but I will move on when I have to. I will be brave and ask questions, because it doesn't matter what people think of me, or what I think of myself.
I was put here on this earth for a reason, and as such I'd better give it all up for my Creator. If I truly live for Him and Him alone, the rest of this I should count as loss.
It's been a struggle. I don't seem to have consistency in my daily devotions, if that's what one calls a great relationship with God. I've been struggling with loving people, because each time I try and trust someone to look out for me in this strange land called America, they mess it up.
But Christ died for us while we were still sinners. I am grateful for the gift of Jesus, for my salvation. I am overwhelmed by my God's grace and mercy, that led to my redemption. It's just not worth it. It's not worth holding onto anyone's rights or wrongs, because in the end, we are all broken people, saved by a loving and merciful God.
That also pretty much means, it's not by what I do or what I say that determines how God loves me. God loves me because He chose to love me. He chose to love all of us. By what God has done, He's altered the world in both cosmic and personal measures.
And that's what I choose to focus on.
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
When memories die hard
"We treat them with exposure therapy, to prevent avoidance behavior. To overcome, they shouldn't have to go around it or avoid it, they need to go through it and learn that it's okay."
This is one of the toughest lessons I've had to learn - to not run away.
I guess I thought I was doing great back home, but I really just wasn't. I had occupied my time with church and my hipster cafe job so I wouldn't have to spend hours thinking about my problems, my unforgiveness.
But now I have nothing.
Sure I have to study and do my homework, but when I get so tired and my mind cries out for rest, I drift off. I've lost count of the number of times I've drifted back to Malaysia and replaying the events of last year in my head, only to be awakened when my professor asks a question. Even when I pay attention to my class, I somehow end up drifting back to the past and a lot of it back there really hurts.
Abnormal psych hasn't been an easy class. Academically I'm doing really well (like honestly I haven't gotten a 100 in a test since I left primary school), but mentally I tend to get pretty distracted and depressed on some days. When I learn about the mental disorders that people are diagnosed with and how they're being offered treatment for it, I get angry. I think about that one time my youth pastor remarked that "Psych majors like to dramatize everything" and I almost drop an F-bomb mentally.
I remember the time I talked about my problems and told him I was going for psychotherapy. He immediately got alarmed and thought I was going to be on drugs, though I sure as hell wasn't. He said I should've sought spiritual help. The thing is, I did and it didn't help at all.
What was I suppose to do then? I had issues and I wanted to deal with it, so I could overcome them and be the person God had created me to be, without the anxiety and the anger. My parents got my vote and they even went with me for therapy and it helped, though only briefly, because I came here.
I find it strange that someone would think that I had never reached out to the church. I have, but all I tend to receive is nothing but criticism for "overreacting" or "taking it too seriously". I was tired of hearing the thoughts in my head go "Oh, I'll come along" when I felt miserable and wanted to deal with it. Also, I understand that putting my focus in serving others and loving others did help, but it still couldn't destroy years of self-conditioning, which made me mistrust everyone and not be vulnerable to anyone. I've made progress, but even so, these things still go on and take time.
I was so mad. And a part of me, still is mad, though I've declared time and time again that I forgive him for saying such things out of ignorance.
There is this girl in my class who asked my professor this once, "How can you tell if it is a psychological disorder or a spiritual or demonic thing?" My professor couldn't give a proper answer, but his best bet was that if the disorder does not go away even after treatment, he would refer them for pastoral care or something of the sort. He didn't diminish those possibilities, but said that we'd have to be careful about how we diagnose things.
This mentality just doesn't exist in church back home, especially a charismatic Pentecostal one. There is so much emphasis on miracles, signs and wonders that people find the thought of considering secular medical or mental health care as the prime option is close to sin. People don't seem to think that perhaps God might want to heal a person through medical means. I know it took my mum ages to realize that I needed more help than just counselling at church, or to just go to some healing service or prophetic event. I don't doubt that God works through these events, but I do believe that we must consider the possibility that God might work through other means as well.
I think people just don't see how serious things are. Say, if this was domestic violence, how would you counsel someone who's going through that? During my gender psych class, I got to hear clips of pastors who suggested that women went to the elders and leaders of the church in order for them to deal with their abusive boyfriends or husbands. Worse still, I heard a clip of a pastor who even told the woman to undergo the abuse for a season, and pray about it until he repented. I found it more appalling that they had even said, "It depends on the level of abuse." What on earth does that even mean?! ABUSE IS ABUSE. If what we do unto our neighbor is what we do unto God, would that person not have sinned for even abusing that person? It was not meant for anyone to just continue to be abused. Now that I think about it, it's insane. It's insane that a prestigious church leader would allow that to happen, and it makes you question where the church is headed to with such ignorant talk.
I'm not saying my situation is as bad as domestic violence. I'm not saying that I need to be pitied and the whole world needs to be at my aid. I'm saying that my problem is real, and I had every right to get help, and well, even my parents gave their blessing. My mum has become more open minded and now she sees why a field like psychology even exists. It exists because it helps people overcome, it helps people grow. We might disagree on a lot of things, but I'm glad we're on the same page when it comes to this.
Being here has been insane for me, emotionally and mentally. Now that I don't have a hectic schedule that drowns away my sorrows, I have to deal with my problems. I need to deal with my lacking walk with God. I suddenly have time to hear the voice of the world and the voice of the enemy.
But I thank God that I can also hear His beautiful voice. I thank God that the Holy Spirit has never left, even when I don't feel like it. Even without the worship team blasting Jesus Culture and a 30 minute long session of glossolalia, I feel His presence here. I know His presence and oh, it leaves me in awe. I try hard not to bawl in church because people here are a lot more conservative but it's hard. God's presence just enters and I cry, because I can feel it. It's crazy.
So don't ever tell me other denominations aren't spirit filled. That's a whole lot of loony going on there. GOD IS OMNIPRESENT. And the Holy Spirit surely is, because the Spirit is the Spirit of God.
Right now, I'm struggling. I'm struggling hard. I'm not gonna lie and pretend that I'm having a blast every single day, because I'm not. I go through pain. That's not to say that I'm ungrateful. I am blessed to be here. I am very, very blessed and I do not regret it at all. Going to the U.S. has been a dream I have always wanted to fulfill and God made it all happen. He placed this desire in my heart, and I can see a little bit of why he did that now.
He wants me to overcome. He wants my mind, to renew it so I may be transformed.
I cried out to Him today, afraid of ever returning to Malaysia. When I think of the people who have hurt me, I am angry. I wonder how I will ever serve him if I ever step foot into my church ever again. Won't I only drown in hatred and things would return to how they were?
But God is faithful. I choose to believe that God will give me whatever it takes to overcome. I will keep on forgiving them, and I will be able to love these people again with a pure heart, some day. I will overcome my anxiety - my heart will cease to palpitate with every class discussion, and I will not feel sad anymore despite being in a crowd of people.
Yet, with all these troubles, Paul's words come to mind,
This is one of the toughest lessons I've had to learn - to not run away.
I guess I thought I was doing great back home, but I really just wasn't. I had occupied my time with church and my hipster cafe job so I wouldn't have to spend hours thinking about my problems, my unforgiveness.
But now I have nothing.
Sure I have to study and do my homework, but when I get so tired and my mind cries out for rest, I drift off. I've lost count of the number of times I've drifted back to Malaysia and replaying the events of last year in my head, only to be awakened when my professor asks a question. Even when I pay attention to my class, I somehow end up drifting back to the past and a lot of it back there really hurts.
Abnormal psych hasn't been an easy class. Academically I'm doing really well (like honestly I haven't gotten a 100 in a test since I left primary school), but mentally I tend to get pretty distracted and depressed on some days. When I learn about the mental disorders that people are diagnosed with and how they're being offered treatment for it, I get angry. I think about that one time my youth pastor remarked that "Psych majors like to dramatize everything" and I almost drop an F-bomb mentally.
I remember the time I talked about my problems and told him I was going for psychotherapy. He immediately got alarmed and thought I was going to be on drugs, though I sure as hell wasn't. He said I should've sought spiritual help. The thing is, I did and it didn't help at all.
What was I suppose to do then? I had issues and I wanted to deal with it, so I could overcome them and be the person God had created me to be, without the anxiety and the anger. My parents got my vote and they even went with me for therapy and it helped, though only briefly, because I came here.
I find it strange that someone would think that I had never reached out to the church. I have, but all I tend to receive is nothing but criticism for "overreacting" or "taking it too seriously". I was tired of hearing the thoughts in my head go "Oh, I'll come along" when I felt miserable and wanted to deal with it. Also, I understand that putting my focus in serving others and loving others did help, but it still couldn't destroy years of self-conditioning, which made me mistrust everyone and not be vulnerable to anyone. I've made progress, but even so, these things still go on and take time.
I was so mad. And a part of me, still is mad, though I've declared time and time again that I forgive him for saying such things out of ignorance.
There is this girl in my class who asked my professor this once, "How can you tell if it is a psychological disorder or a spiritual or demonic thing?" My professor couldn't give a proper answer, but his best bet was that if the disorder does not go away even after treatment, he would refer them for pastoral care or something of the sort. He didn't diminish those possibilities, but said that we'd have to be careful about how we diagnose things.
This mentality just doesn't exist in church back home, especially a charismatic Pentecostal one. There is so much emphasis on miracles, signs and wonders that people find the thought of considering secular medical or mental health care as the prime option is close to sin. People don't seem to think that perhaps God might want to heal a person through medical means. I know it took my mum ages to realize that I needed more help than just counselling at church, or to just go to some healing service or prophetic event. I don't doubt that God works through these events, but I do believe that we must consider the possibility that God might work through other means as well.
I think people just don't see how serious things are. Say, if this was domestic violence, how would you counsel someone who's going through that? During my gender psych class, I got to hear clips of pastors who suggested that women went to the elders and leaders of the church in order for them to deal with their abusive boyfriends or husbands. Worse still, I heard a clip of a pastor who even told the woman to undergo the abuse for a season, and pray about it until he repented. I found it more appalling that they had even said, "It depends on the level of abuse." What on earth does that even mean?! ABUSE IS ABUSE. If what we do unto our neighbor is what we do unto God, would that person not have sinned for even abusing that person? It was not meant for anyone to just continue to be abused. Now that I think about it, it's insane. It's insane that a prestigious church leader would allow that to happen, and it makes you question where the church is headed to with such ignorant talk.
I'm not saying my situation is as bad as domestic violence. I'm not saying that I need to be pitied and the whole world needs to be at my aid. I'm saying that my problem is real, and I had every right to get help, and well, even my parents gave their blessing. My mum has become more open minded and now she sees why a field like psychology even exists. It exists because it helps people overcome, it helps people grow. We might disagree on a lot of things, but I'm glad we're on the same page when it comes to this.
Being here has been insane for me, emotionally and mentally. Now that I don't have a hectic schedule that drowns away my sorrows, I have to deal with my problems. I need to deal with my lacking walk with God. I suddenly have time to hear the voice of the world and the voice of the enemy.
But I thank God that I can also hear His beautiful voice. I thank God that the Holy Spirit has never left, even when I don't feel like it. Even without the worship team blasting Jesus Culture and a 30 minute long session of glossolalia, I feel His presence here. I know His presence and oh, it leaves me in awe. I try hard not to bawl in church because people here are a lot more conservative but it's hard. God's presence just enters and I cry, because I can feel it. It's crazy.
So don't ever tell me other denominations aren't spirit filled. That's a whole lot of loony going on there. GOD IS OMNIPRESENT. And the Holy Spirit surely is, because the Spirit is the Spirit of God.
Right now, I'm struggling. I'm struggling hard. I'm not gonna lie and pretend that I'm having a blast every single day, because I'm not. I go through pain. That's not to say that I'm ungrateful. I am blessed to be here. I am very, very blessed and I do not regret it at all. Going to the U.S. has been a dream I have always wanted to fulfill and God made it all happen. He placed this desire in my heart, and I can see a little bit of why he did that now.
He wants me to overcome. He wants my mind, to renew it so I may be transformed.
I cried out to Him today, afraid of ever returning to Malaysia. When I think of the people who have hurt me, I am angry. I wonder how I will ever serve him if I ever step foot into my church ever again. Won't I only drown in hatred and things would return to how they were?
But God is faithful. I choose to believe that God will give me whatever it takes to overcome. I will keep on forgiving them, and I will be able to love these people again with a pure heart, some day. I will overcome my anxiety - my heart will cease to palpitate with every class discussion, and I will not feel sad anymore despite being in a crowd of people.
Yet, with all these troubles, Paul's words come to mind,
"So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong."
- 2 Corinthians 12:9-10
Saturday, January 24, 2015
Emosi
I'm starting to think my cynicism back in Malaysia is starting to turn on me.
I guess I deserve that, and I just gotta make do with it.
But then again, why am I taking this personally?
I don't know this guy. All I know is that he's just being cynical and seems like a pretty off-putting guy who doesn't give a damn about anything else other than for himself to be right. Yet again, I'm being counterproductive by giving him credit for that.
Take it to God, Vivian. You can't let this disease linger within you.
Hate is a horrible thing. Bitterness eats you up. Resentment will only get to you and make you a horrible person.
Don't let one stupid thing put you off. You can't keep pretending you follow Jesus if you don't have what the Word says in you. Hide His word in your heart, Viv.
Stop pretending. Let Jesus fill you up, instead of looking like you're full when inside you're empty. Hide in His wing. Cry out to Him. Let Him be your guide, let Him judge.
Yes, I am angry. But I also have a God who loves me.
Let Him decide my case.
Monday, January 19, 2015
2B or not 2B
I didn't come to America just to study.
Sure, I came as a student, but in the grand scale of things, I don't believe that this is the only reason why God has sent me here. I know I've always wanted to come to the States and take on their education system, but I'm more than convinced that this is not the sole purpose of my presence.
There's gotta be more than this.
It's been three weeks now since I first landed in America, and my first week here as a student in Texas has officially come to an end. It's strange, really. It feels like I've been here forever, like I've left home so long that I've just become a slightly different person. I feel like if I tried to drive here, I'd probably screw it up. I mean sure, the roads here are in the opposite direction and nothing here works exactly like it does back home, but I don't know if I'll lose my ability to use a car. It feels funny not driving, not knowing where things are and getting to them as quickly as I want to like I did back home.
So I've cried. Not as much as I'd expected to, but I've shed some tears. I miss home. I miss being able to have conversations with my mum after she gets back from work. I miss being able to pour out my heart and soul to her, and cry it all out and argue with her and shout in my room until I come to my sense and realized just how loved I am at home and that I should just calm down for Christ's sake. I miss knocking on muizies' door and running right back into my room with the door slammed shut just to irritate the heck out of her. And I miss that when I do go into her room, I end up complaining about everything, and having us both light up when we agree on the things that piss us off so much. I miss having my dad knock on my door just to check on me, or pass me money and trying so hard to make conversation when we both know we very much prefer silence over anything else.
I miss being able to wake up at 10AM and walking straight down to the kitchen, upon the aroma of fried sardines and ABC soup. I miss driving my grandma to Pasaraya to get ingredients for lunch and dinner, and just talking to her in the car and still talk to her even when we get home. I regret always playing with my phone when my grandma is saying something, because I know it was probably important but I chose not to pay attention anyway. But I thank God I paid attention to her stories, the accounts of what her childhood and youth was like, and even her adult life. I miss listening to her stories about Gong Gong and those about my mum and my aunts in their childhood.
My grandma. I miss my grandma. I loved how she could love so freely, because God's love was so in her that it couldn't help but overflow. I miss just having her dish out scripture after scripture to me as I went on and on about my problems, because that's when I knew the Holy Spirit was there with us, at the dining table and he's got it all covered.
I'd better stop, lest I shed tears again. My roommate is watching a movie right in front of me and I really don't want to bother her with my emotional tendencies, heh.
While I'm aware that my being here encompasses studying and making disciples of all nations etc., I'm not so sure specifically what I'm called to do here. Again, with the strange feels I have about this place. Since I got here, I've only been to two churches, and well, they're both a place of worship I'm not quite used to. It's a lot more solemn and still in baptist churches here than in my home church. It's not bad or anything, and well, they're good churches, but I'm just finding it hard to get used to. In fact, I'm constantly trying not to impose my own understanding of what church is to me on these churches I've been to. I really thank God I was led to CF in Taylor's, because at least I know now how to look at these things and still see the glory of God wherever I am, no matter how far things appear to be from the norms I've been assigned to all this while.
But yes, I do find it hard to adjust to things here. From lousy HB graphite replacing 2B pencils to interchanges between Fahrenheit and Celcius, this glove is definitely one-sized and does NOT fit all.
That's not to say that things haven't been going great here though. I've been extremely BLESSED.
Since I came to Texas, people here have been nothing but friendly. I am amazed at how hospitable and kind everyone is, it's crazy (for someone like me who is terribly cynical about the world, YES THEY ARE ABSOLUTELY CRAZY NICE!). And that's just one way God has shown His love for me. I know God loves us as much as He loves the next person, but I'm learning now just how His love is so personal, so real and so BIG. I see it so clearly now, every day of my life and everywhere I am right here in this small town in West Texas.
I have not lacked anything from the day I stepped foot into this country, and I am extremely grateful for that. For one, I don't have to worry about food at all. I know the Caf would be closed on certain hours during the weekend or the public holiday and I'd have to buy myself food. Yet, so far I haven't had a problem with that. I would never run out of people to offer me a ride to get food, or even a place where I could get free food. It's CRAZY! The same goes with getting rides to Walmart, or finding people to have lunch with, or going to church, or even just for plain conversation. I've even found a roommate who I have quite a bit in common with, and I find that pretty cool. She's not too crazy, and I think we complement each other quite well as roommates. We typically study a lot and have things we can talk about (although we mostly do our own thing). She's not OCD about keeping the room kempt all the time and she likes coffee. Oh and she's Indian (American, but Indian nonetheless), and so we do have our Indian food cravings more than anything. I still find it hard to believe I have a roommate that will not induce trichotillomania within me (of course that's a bit more towards to the scientifically abnormal side of things and is not the kind of hair pulling girls do when they hate each other lol).
I have been blessed, I have been given more than I could ever hope to receive and I have learned quite a bit about myself from coming here. I've learned that I need to be responsible from myself, but that responsibility does need equal total independence. I cannot endorse self-pity, and expect people to be responsible for how I feel or the decisions I make; but I can draw wisdom from them if mine is insufficient because God puts people in my life for a reason. I need to be able to take care of myself, but when I can't manage, I know I can get help from others. People here are more than happy to help (I absolutely love this about living in the South!) and won't take it personally if I don't understand or doubt what they're saying. I choose to trust people, but I still am discern in choosing those I trust. Each day, I am convinced of this truth - I cannot use the same model of how to navigate life that I employed back home, to do life here in the forty acres.
God is teaching me new things every single day, and I am eager to learn. And He gives me new mercies every morning to overcome, regardless of the circumstances (and the cold).
Yet the question still begs to be answered - What am I doing here?
Only God knows. And the only way I'll ever find out, is to spend time with Him. Moments of silence and concentration are really hard to come by. When I lived alone, it was hard even focusing on God; but now that I have a roommate, I hardly ever find a conducive place where I can come before God and have a quiet time with Him. I guess I'll just have to work that out. God is omnipresent and He is sovereign, so that shouldn't be an excuse for not communing with the Heavenly Father.
To conclude, here's a scripture you might be immune to from having heard it countless times as a Christian (or maybe your Christian friend has mentioned). I had a "Wow" moment when it was quoted in Selma, a film of the late Dr. Martin Luther King Jr, who fought for the civil rights of the African American people during the 60s. Not sure if it's in Malaysia, but if it is, go watch it. It is AWESOME!
SPOILER ALERT:
This was quoted when Dr. King and his fellow activists were imprisoned after supposedly causing a scene in one of their peaceful protests at the courthouse in Selma, Alabama. He was really discouraged, and was worried about what would happen to the movement if he'd been killed. However, Ralph Abernathy turns to King and says,
"Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?"And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?"
Sure, I came as a student, but in the grand scale of things, I don't believe that this is the only reason why God has sent me here. I know I've always wanted to come to the States and take on their education system, but I'm more than convinced that this is not the sole purpose of my presence.
There's gotta be more than this.
It's been three weeks now since I first landed in America, and my first week here as a student in Texas has officially come to an end. It's strange, really. It feels like I've been here forever, like I've left home so long that I've just become a slightly different person. I feel like if I tried to drive here, I'd probably screw it up. I mean sure, the roads here are in the opposite direction and nothing here works exactly like it does back home, but I don't know if I'll lose my ability to use a car. It feels funny not driving, not knowing where things are and getting to them as quickly as I want to like I did back home.
So I've cried. Not as much as I'd expected to, but I've shed some tears. I miss home. I miss being able to have conversations with my mum after she gets back from work. I miss being able to pour out my heart and soul to her, and cry it all out and argue with her and shout in my room until I come to my sense and realized just how loved I am at home and that I should just calm down for Christ's sake. I miss knocking on muizies' door and running right back into my room with the door slammed shut just to irritate the heck out of her. And I miss that when I do go into her room, I end up complaining about everything, and having us both light up when we agree on the things that piss us off so much. I miss having my dad knock on my door just to check on me, or pass me money and trying so hard to make conversation when we both know we very much prefer silence over anything else.
I miss being able to wake up at 10AM and walking straight down to the kitchen, upon the aroma of fried sardines and ABC soup. I miss driving my grandma to Pasaraya to get ingredients for lunch and dinner, and just talking to her in the car and still talk to her even when we get home. I regret always playing with my phone when my grandma is saying something, because I know it was probably important but I chose not to pay attention anyway. But I thank God I paid attention to her stories, the accounts of what her childhood and youth was like, and even her adult life. I miss listening to her stories about Gong Gong and those about my mum and my aunts in their childhood.
My grandma. I miss my grandma. I loved how she could love so freely, because God's love was so in her that it couldn't help but overflow. I miss just having her dish out scripture after scripture to me as I went on and on about my problems, because that's when I knew the Holy Spirit was there with us, at the dining table and he's got it all covered.
I'd better stop, lest I shed tears again. My roommate is watching a movie right in front of me and I really don't want to bother her with my emotional tendencies, heh.
While I'm aware that my being here encompasses studying and making disciples of all nations etc., I'm not so sure specifically what I'm called to do here. Again, with the strange feels I have about this place. Since I got here, I've only been to two churches, and well, they're both a place of worship I'm not quite used to. It's a lot more solemn and still in baptist churches here than in my home church. It's not bad or anything, and well, they're good churches, but I'm just finding it hard to get used to. In fact, I'm constantly trying not to impose my own understanding of what church is to me on these churches I've been to. I really thank God I was led to CF in Taylor's, because at least I know now how to look at these things and still see the glory of God wherever I am, no matter how far things appear to be from the norms I've been assigned to all this while.
But yes, I do find it hard to adjust to things here. From lousy HB graphite replacing 2B pencils to interchanges between Fahrenheit and Celcius, this glove is definitely one-sized and does NOT fit all.
That's not to say that things haven't been going great here though. I've been extremely BLESSED.
Since I came to Texas, people here have been nothing but friendly. I am amazed at how hospitable and kind everyone is, it's crazy (for someone like me who is terribly cynical about the world, YES THEY ARE ABSOLUTELY CRAZY NICE!). And that's just one way God has shown His love for me. I know God loves us as much as He loves the next person, but I'm learning now just how His love is so personal, so real and so BIG. I see it so clearly now, every day of my life and everywhere I am right here in this small town in West Texas.
I have not lacked anything from the day I stepped foot into this country, and I am extremely grateful for that. For one, I don't have to worry about food at all. I know the Caf would be closed on certain hours during the weekend or the public holiday and I'd have to buy myself food. Yet, so far I haven't had a problem with that. I would never run out of people to offer me a ride to get food, or even a place where I could get free food. It's CRAZY! The same goes with getting rides to Walmart, or finding people to have lunch with, or going to church, or even just for plain conversation. I've even found a roommate who I have quite a bit in common with, and I find that pretty cool. She's not too crazy, and I think we complement each other quite well as roommates. We typically study a lot and have things we can talk about (although we mostly do our own thing). She's not OCD about keeping the room kempt all the time and she likes coffee. Oh and she's Indian (American, but Indian nonetheless), and so we do have our Indian food cravings more than anything. I still find it hard to believe I have a roommate that will not induce trichotillomania within me (of course that's a bit more towards to the scientifically abnormal side of things and is not the kind of hair pulling girls do when they hate each other lol).
I have been blessed, I have been given more than I could ever hope to receive and I have learned quite a bit about myself from coming here. I've learned that I need to be responsible from myself, but that responsibility does need equal total independence. I cannot endorse self-pity, and expect people to be responsible for how I feel or the decisions I make; but I can draw wisdom from them if mine is insufficient because God puts people in my life for a reason. I need to be able to take care of myself, but when I can't manage, I know I can get help from others. People here are more than happy to help (I absolutely love this about living in the South!) and won't take it personally if I don't understand or doubt what they're saying. I choose to trust people, but I still am discern in choosing those I trust. Each day, I am convinced of this truth - I cannot use the same model of how to navigate life that I employed back home, to do life here in the forty acres.
God is teaching me new things every single day, and I am eager to learn. And He gives me new mercies every morning to overcome, regardless of the circumstances (and the cold).
Yet the question still begs to be answered - What am I doing here?
Only God knows. And the only way I'll ever find out, is to spend time with Him. Moments of silence and concentration are really hard to come by. When I lived alone, it was hard even focusing on God; but now that I have a roommate, I hardly ever find a conducive place where I can come before God and have a quiet time with Him. I guess I'll just have to work that out. God is omnipresent and He is sovereign, so that shouldn't be an excuse for not communing with the Heavenly Father.
To conclude, here's a scripture you might be immune to from having heard it countless times as a Christian (or maybe your Christian friend has mentioned). I had a "Wow" moment when it was quoted in Selma, a film of the late Dr. Martin Luther King Jr, who fought for the civil rights of the African American people during the 60s. Not sure if it's in Malaysia, but if it is, go watch it. It is AWESOME!
SPOILER ALERT:
This was quoted when Dr. King and his fellow activists were imprisoned after supposedly causing a scene in one of their peaceful protests at the courthouse in Selma, Alabama. He was really discouraged, and was worried about what would happen to the movement if he'd been killed. However, Ralph Abernathy turns to King and says,
"Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?"And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?"
- Matthew 6:26-27
Friday, January 9, 2015
Sorry stupid post
I'm scared.
I want to go home. I don't want to stay here anymore. I just want to be with family.
I just want to talk to Popo. I want to hear her singing in the kitchen, her singing in the shower. I want to drink clear chicken soup in the dining room and complain about her drinking too much coffee, and her watching too many Hokkien dramas. I want to listen to her grandmother stories, the vivid recollections of her childhood and youth. I want to say goodnight and rest early to her before I solemnly agree to go to sleep and secretly surf the net until 1AM.
Yet, I also want to talk about this new place I'm gonna call home for the next two years. But I can't, because my face is doused in tears and I'm trying hard as hell to hold this fort up when everything's crumbling down.
I'm scared, and I really miss home.
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Welcome to America
It’s been a week now since I landed here in New York, in the U.S. of A. It’s been exciting, just experiencing the culture and visiting world-renowned places first hand; not via TLC on Astro or some media-inclined stereotypical interpretation of America.
Getting connected with my relatives definitely gave me a glimpse of what the country has to offer. My grandaunt and her family offered a tonne of insight into New York and generally, life in America. Although, they moved to the States a few decades ago, their enthusiasm for the place they’ve called home hasn’t faltered. My granduncle certainly hasn’t hesitated in sharing his love for America. He kept going on and on about what a great place the States is and how it made him feel over breakfast this morning. To reiterate (and translate from Cantonese to English) his point, America is a place that makes him happy. America offers many things, material and non-material; both of which fulfilled man’s desire to be well, happy.
“You can do anything here. In America, you are free to become who you want to be.”
They said I was a genius to have chosen to study in America. Well, I guess I’d have to agree (c’mon they be complimentin’ my decision makin’ skills whaddup).
On the other hand, this same liberty I am learning to embrace is equally as daunting. Given that America is definitely notches higher in the liberalism scale than in Malaysia, things are bound to get crazy (on the grand Malaysian scale of things, that is). Suddenly the sky isn’t the limit anymore. And if I choose to be terribly negative and not focus on the hope that is in Jesus, limit ceases to exist in the pre-existing thoughts and vocabulary of people here.
Things probably differ from state to state, but people here in New York are pretty vociferous. You could be as loud as you’d like here, and it’d be “your right” to do so. People might raise an eyebrow or have their attention stolen for a second or two, but generally, people don’t care much. Americans are pretty vocal about everything; they’d tell you to get out of the way if you were in it and it’d be okay. If you were being a douche on the road and taking up way too much parking space when you could have moved forward by a few inches so another car could slide into a spot (true story bro), they’d say it to your face how douche-y you are, and more. Well, I guess I’d expected vulgarity every now and then, but I’m still quite taken aback by how “okay” everything can be. Sometimes it just seems like there aren’t any rules here, like you could do what you want and measure it against your own moral and ethical rule.
To me, this begged a question. A question easily answered, but a question nonetheless. And you know how much I like asking questions. How would I then know how far is too far? When then will things be okay, and how will I know if I’ve made the right choice?
That’s why Jesus came, and when he left, the Holy Spirit. Lah. Yes, that lah was necessary, because I honestly like speaking Manglish a lot better than this ciplak version of an American accent. Pai seh.
In the last couple of days I’ve been having some doubts about coming to America. Some incidents that occurred here (which I will not care to mention because you know, TL;DR) have managed to conjure a sense of fear and anxiety about what is to come in the next two years. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to discern accurately who is good or bad. Not as in a ‘I-hate-you-because-of-your-skin-color-way’ or ‘I-like-you-because-we-both-listen-to-Coldplay’ kinda way, but rather in a ‘I-need-the-Holy-Spirit-to-teach-me-discernment’ way. I definitely lack in that department.
But if there’s one thing I realize, it’s this – God has made a way for me here. Sure, it’s over fifteen thousand kilometres away from home, and I’ve been pretty sheltered by both my physical and spiritual family all this time that coming out here and attempting to thrive and not just survive is a lot to behold. Yet, deep inside, I know I’m exactly where I need to be.
I’ve always felt like there was a need to get away from the comfort and confines of my nest in TTDI, KL and embark on this journey of studying abroad. I know I’m not going to be perfectly fine in the first few months I’m here in the States, but I’m going to make it. I’m going to work through the trials and temptations with God by my side, and come out strong. I’ve been given a chance by my loving Heavenly Father to experience life a different way, and perhaps my faith in a spectacular way as well. I don’t diminish the experiences I’ve had in Malaysia, with CF and the youth church, but I’m all for growth. I’m all for stepping out of the culture and expectations of my home church and learning and encountering God anywhere else in this world.
And right now, that’s here – in the U.S.A.
Only time will tell how I fare, but until then, keep me in your prayers. Whoever you are, at any time zone, reading this blog post, I ask that you intercede for me. I’ve been struggling to keep my head above water in this really emotional and fragile time of transitioning from the old to the new and it has taken a toll on my walk with God. The word of God that I once regarded so highly has suddenly gone to the bottom of the list. It’s almost off the list, actually. And that’s scary. I can’t let that happen.
I know my walk is my responsibility and it’s a choice I have to make, but I’d still like you guys to pray for me. Not out of obligation, but out of love. Out of relationship. I haven’t shared this blog with many people, and those whom I have shared this with, I truly trust and consider my dearest friends. I have allowed myself to be vulnerable to people, something I have found very difficult to do all my life, but can do with the strength of God. So keep me in your prayers. I’ll do the same for you, fo sho.
Uni starts in over a week, and I’m really excited! I’ll be flying to Texas tomorrow, where I’ll call
home for the next two years. I guess journey mercy would be a great thing to include in your prayer for me, haha. But yeah, that’s about it.
And here we go!
Getting connected with my relatives definitely gave me a glimpse of what the country has to offer. My grandaunt and her family offered a tonne of insight into New York and generally, life in America. Although, they moved to the States a few decades ago, their enthusiasm for the place they’ve called home hasn’t faltered. My granduncle certainly hasn’t hesitated in sharing his love for America. He kept going on and on about what a great place the States is and how it made him feel over breakfast this morning. To reiterate (and translate from Cantonese to English) his point, America is a place that makes him happy. America offers many things, material and non-material; both of which fulfilled man’s desire to be well, happy.
“You can do anything here. In America, you are free to become who you want to be.”
They said I was a genius to have chosen to study in America. Well, I guess I’d have to agree (c’mon they be complimentin’ my decision makin’ skills whaddup).
On the other hand, this same liberty I am learning to embrace is equally as daunting. Given that America is definitely notches higher in the liberalism scale than in Malaysia, things are bound to get crazy (on the grand Malaysian scale of things, that is). Suddenly the sky isn’t the limit anymore. And if I choose to be terribly negative and not focus on the hope that is in Jesus, limit ceases to exist in the pre-existing thoughts and vocabulary of people here.
Things probably differ from state to state, but people here in New York are pretty vociferous. You could be as loud as you’d like here, and it’d be “your right” to do so. People might raise an eyebrow or have their attention stolen for a second or two, but generally, people don’t care much. Americans are pretty vocal about everything; they’d tell you to get out of the way if you were in it and it’d be okay. If you were being a douche on the road and taking up way too much parking space when you could have moved forward by a few inches so another car could slide into a spot (true story bro), they’d say it to your face how douche-y you are, and more. Well, I guess I’d expected vulgarity every now and then, but I’m still quite taken aback by how “okay” everything can be. Sometimes it just seems like there aren’t any rules here, like you could do what you want and measure it against your own moral and ethical rule.
To me, this begged a question. A question easily answered, but a question nonetheless. And you know how much I like asking questions. How would I then know how far is too far? When then will things be okay, and how will I know if I’ve made the right choice?
That’s why Jesus came, and when he left, the Holy Spirit. Lah. Yes, that lah was necessary, because I honestly like speaking Manglish a lot better than this ciplak version of an American accent. Pai seh.
In the last couple of days I’ve been having some doubts about coming to America. Some incidents that occurred here (which I will not care to mention because you know, TL;DR) have managed to conjure a sense of fear and anxiety about what is to come in the next two years. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to discern accurately who is good or bad. Not as in a ‘I-hate-you-because-of-your-skin-color-way’ or ‘I-like-you-because-we-both-listen-to-Coldplay’ kinda way, but rather in a ‘I-need-the-Holy-Spirit-to-teach-me-discernment’ way. I definitely lack in that department.
But if there’s one thing I realize, it’s this – God has made a way for me here. Sure, it’s over fifteen thousand kilometres away from home, and I’ve been pretty sheltered by both my physical and spiritual family all this time that coming out here and attempting to thrive and not just survive is a lot to behold. Yet, deep inside, I know I’m exactly where I need to be.
I’ve always felt like there was a need to get away from the comfort and confines of my nest in TTDI, KL and embark on this journey of studying abroad. I know I’m not going to be perfectly fine in the first few months I’m here in the States, but I’m going to make it. I’m going to work through the trials and temptations with God by my side, and come out strong. I’ve been given a chance by my loving Heavenly Father to experience life a different way, and perhaps my faith in a spectacular way as well. I don’t diminish the experiences I’ve had in Malaysia, with CF and the youth church, but I’m all for growth. I’m all for stepping out of the culture and expectations of my home church and learning and encountering God anywhere else in this world.
And right now, that’s here – in the U.S.A.
Only time will tell how I fare, but until then, keep me in your prayers. Whoever you are, at any time zone, reading this blog post, I ask that you intercede for me. I’ve been struggling to keep my head above water in this really emotional and fragile time of transitioning from the old to the new and it has taken a toll on my walk with God. The word of God that I once regarded so highly has suddenly gone to the bottom of the list. It’s almost off the list, actually. And that’s scary. I can’t let that happen.
I know my walk is my responsibility and it’s a choice I have to make, but I’d still like you guys to pray for me. Not out of obligation, but out of love. Out of relationship. I haven’t shared this blog with many people, and those whom I have shared this with, I truly trust and consider my dearest friends. I have allowed myself to be vulnerable to people, something I have found very difficult to do all my life, but can do with the strength of God. So keep me in your prayers. I’ll do the same for you, fo sho.
Uni starts in over a week, and I’m really excited! I’ll be flying to Texas tomorrow, where I’ll call
home for the next two years. I guess journey mercy would be a great thing to include in your prayer for me, haha. But yeah, that’s about it.
And here we go!
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