Monday, November 06, 2006
*h.k.s*...
one month + 6 days...
its been tough at times, but i'm oh so blessed...
thank you...
Monday, September 11, 2006
Another Beginning, A Different Story...
For those who still read this blog - I'm surprised, I'm humbled and I'm appreciative.
Well, for anyone who does not know, I'm currently in London, Ontario - home to the Labatt Centre, University of Western Ontario, and last but not least Vince Fung (there Vince, that's your plug).
Yup, that's right - I'm studying at Western this year. No, not for law school but I'm actually here studying at the Faculty of Education (the faculty building is called Althouse). I'm doing my Bachelor of Education in Intermediate/Senior Program. It's a one-year post-grad program to which when I finish, I'll be able to teach Social Sciences at the high school level. Two things have been heavily emphasized by all the professors, instructors and teachers: (1) we are not students but professionals-in-training, and (2) we should not think of ourselves as teachers but as facilitators of knowledge. Sounds great, sounds very philosophical. I'm suppose to come up with my own teaching philosophy, something to which i have yet to figure out.
Anyhow, I've been here now for just over 2 weeks and in all honesty, it's been a lot harder than I thought. You would think that as a 24-year-old who's been itching to get out of the house for years that this would be a dream come true. And in some ways, it sort of is - I'm free from my parents' nagging, the constant "Hey goh, I need you to proof my paper - it's due tomorrow" from my sister, I'm no longer studying in cutthroat program or subject to the dismal adminstration, the horrible Asian drivers that overrun the streets of Toronto.
But some of the things that have been tough - I've literally been uprooted from my social support foundation back in Toronto and dropped into a city where I know next to no one. Most of those that I am close to (and there's not that many) are all back in Toronto. Those that I do know, they (the handful of them) have schedules different from mine so meeting up with them is next to impossible.
I'm stuck with sharing a suite with argubly the most anal person I've ever meet (not to mention the fact that I share a wall with him - our rooms are side by side). I can't even so much as watch tv, talk on the phone or listen to music after 10:30 because that's when he sleeps - all he does is go to Althouse and stay in his room, sleep at 10:30, and make a mess in the kitchen. My suitemates, as a whole, have taken up all the kitchen cabinet and fridge space, literally leaving me with 2 shelfs, a cabinet, and about less than 3 cubic feet of space in the fridge for my kitchen supplies while they've taken up the REST of the kitchen - the kitchen has about 15 or so shelfs and cabinets, and a full-size fridge.
On top of that, it's been next to impossible to get to know people in my classes and program, let alone people in residence. For the most part, people just stick to their own program and more often than not, they somewhat cluster into their own little pockets of friends. I can honestly say, outside of my suitemate Matteo, my mom's friend's daughter and her friend who lives down the hall from me, I have 3 friends in the Education program and maybe about 10 aquintances (out of a education student population of 800).
Trying to find a fellowship has been no better. I attended ACF last Friday - over 100 people were. According to Ken, by about October, the number drops down to about 50. But really, when you're old, you're old. Going to have to start looking for a fellowship geared towards grad students. Same with trying to find a new church while I'm in London. Whether its church or fellowship, it's not so much what I can get out of it or what I can give, but my biggest concern has been how can I grow.
Things at home aren't a whole lot easier. Grandma's health is deterioriating at what seems to be faster than once thought. Her legs are becoming weaker and weaker - she continues to fall quite often. And with just my mom looking after her, I can only hope and pray that God takes care of the things at home.
All in all, the whole process has been a huge learning curve. While yes, it's another beginning of "first" year, but this time it's different. The challenges and trials are harder, there's more at stake and it calls for a greater dependence on faith in God. And in all honesty, if I had to deal with it all by myself, I would just be burnt out, exhausted and not be able to make it through another day. But God clearly loves me too much to have me fail - to bring me here only to struggle on my own.
God has not only been watching over me, but He's given me a sister and a best friend who's been supportive, encouraging and accountable. We've grown over the years and really. She keeps me level-headed and she's not afraid to rebuke. More importantly, she is one of the very few whom I truly to listen to when I'm criticized or rebuked. The fact that its impossible for me to hide anything from her - that's one of the things I love about this sister of mine. It is because of her presence, care, truthfulness, honesty and sincerity that lets me know that God is still taking care of me, still blessing me, still guiding my path and one I can always trust. In spite of all the challenges, God has never forsaken me and His personal reminder for me has been this amazing sister of mine. I can only pray and hope that I may be there for her, be the same to her, as she is to me. Because really, she's been a blessing that I cannot deny. She knows who she is and knows what I'm thinking - thank you oh so much.
So yeah, that's how life at Western has been thus far. I promise to those that read this that I'll be more diligent and intentional about reading and writing blogs. Hope you're all doing well, all surviving the daily rigors of life. Let me know how I pray for you guys, alright? Wish you all the blessing that God has in store.
Laterdays.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Re-writing the ending of another chapter, to love a blessing...
~~~~~
Blessing (def'n): "A blessing, (also used to refer to bestowing of such) is the infusion of something with holiness, divine will, or one's hopes."
-- www.wikipedia.org [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blessing]
~~~~~
Yes, this blog entry has been long over-due. I wonder who actually bothers to read this page anymore other than myself. Haha...ha? Oh, so sad :P
Anyhow, after completing victory lap #1, I can say I'm done (at least for the next several decades, hopefully) at York University. Only by God's grace (and a little bit of elbow-grease, an all-nighter and Stella's notes) was I able to pass 2nd-year Linguistics. Monica lied - that course was bloody hard!!! Anyhow, I owe a lot to Stella though - she really kept me afloat when I was always late because of coaching or had to leave early because of history term papers. But not only that, her, Janiece and Kevin really made that class enjoyable. Tom Wilson, the prof, was just boring and a "bast" (as Shu would say) of a prof, but those 3 really helped me make it through the year in my "class of torture" (that's the name I had been calling Linguistics all year). I went into the exam with a C-grade, and thinking I failed that exam, somehow I finished the course with a C+. Consistent, huh?
Anyhow, I did fairly well in my other classes. In my "class of death" (African history), I busted my butt on the final paper and final exam and pulled off an A in that course. Probably one of the hardest courses I've ever taken, not just because the prof was an ego-maniac and I had a TA who's Cuban-accent and ever-so-loud-bordering-yelling-at-us tutorials, I learned a lot. I learned a lot about the history of Africa and Africans. I developed a greater appreciation and understanding on Africa's current social, political, geographical state. What I gained most in that class was a sense of awareness on a more global scale and that even though the course proved to be so very, very hard, challenging, demanding and discouraging at times, I was able to not let my self-loathing get in the way of acheiving something more.
To follow up my African history course, I also scored an A in my "class of redemption" (Modern Asian History) (yes, according to a certain individual, my 2 A's in history automatically makes me a nerd, even though I also have a C+ this year as well >_< ). I was always doing well in that class - at least until the final two assignments, worth 15% and 30% of my final grade, respectively. Prior to those two assignments, I was averaging something in the lwo-to-mid 90's. I somewhat tanked those two, garnishing grades of 78% and 75%. At the time I was writing those two papers, there was a lot on my mind and a lot was going on, so I'll spare you the details. I mean, I know I deserved the marks (well, maybe the first one, but the second one should have DEFINITELY been at least 85%), but what I lost in terms of grades during that month and a half, I gained so much in a more meaningful, worthwhile and important part of my life. So, realizing I had let my grades slide in that class and knowing that I had to pull up my mark because I made a promise that I would and there was no need to worry, I busted my butt and with a final worth 30%, I pulled off near-perfect (possibly even a perfect) exam mark to ensure myself an A in that class.
And with all that, I've gotten the necessary GPA in my history courses to solidify and ensure my enrollment for my attempts at a second Bachelor degree, this time a Bachelor of Education from the University of Western Ontario.
So, how does that all relate to the title of the entry? Well, for starters, just when I thought I was done at York, I came back and had to put forth a bit of extra grit before I could truly move on to something that hopefully with strengthen my future career. More importantly though, I was given a second chance at re-writing my ending...my way of ending my years at not really York, but at CCF.
Really, there are few things harder than watching all your friends (whom have become family) move on with their lives and careers while you're stuck spinning your tires. When a big part of your life seems to go missing, you feel at a loss and become unsure of who you are. So when the year started and it was time to kick-start campus ministry again, it truly felt as if there wasn't anything that CCF could offer. In all honesty, I felt about as connected to the fellowship as I would if I was dropped into a foreign city where I knew no one and not knowing the language and culture. During the first time, the times I did go, I went only becausing of coaxing from some people and promises I had made to others. At the time, it wasn't about fellowship - it was about just merely showing up. And after a while, I just gave up.
At times it felt as if I out-grew the fellowship, that there was rarely anyone that I could walk, talk and grow with. And in other moments, it felt as if the fellowship out-grew me, that it became so big that it was easy to get lost in the sea of faces. It became quite natural to leave behind a community that I helped to build and was part of for 3 years prior. It came to a point where I was no longer in CCF and CCF was no longer in me.
But I never stopped talking to a select few simply because its not who I am. The only way to grow a friendship is to maintain ties, show that you still care even if you're not always around. And sure enough, those whom I knew were slowly drawing me back in. I wasn't drawn in because it seemed like the right and upstanding thing to do, although it was. I was drawn back in because I wanted the last several months at York to be ones that I would remember positively, that I spent time with people I cared about and I knew I would miss when I'm gone. So I went back, but this time I went back with no intention of trying to re-gain my spot of being one of CCF's oldest and longest-serving members. I was going back to maintain relations on my own terms. And somehow, somewhere along the way, I became the person that many had known me as for the previous 3 years - I became a brother again.
So, I got another chance to end the chapter right this time. Instead of ending it with discontent and a feeling of "ugh, 4 years of school, 3 years of CCF and people there still don't get it", I got to end it off with being able to a good Christian brother to a close few, becoming adopted as a "goh" by a joyful and jubilant "mui" and attending a new church where I feel at home. Only because of who He is, am I who I am, where I am, and who I have yet to be.
Most importantly, God opened me up so that I could see, appreciate, grow, and cherish the greatest blessing He has bestowed upon me during my 5 years at York. And here's to hoping that I can take that blessing to heart and never forget, to never let go, to love and witness that blessing blossom and bloom, becoming more gracious, more amazing and more beautiful than I could have imagined.
~~~~~
"If true beauty is the manifestation of God's power, authority, purity and creativity, then true blessing is the manifestation of God's mercy, grace, hope and love for us." -- C.S.C. (May 17, 2006)~~~~~
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Taking Initiative...By Patiently Waiting...
Some people are natural-born leaders. They live for the moment and crave the opportunity to be the first to try something new. Others enjoy the challenge of directing people through certain tasks. Some just love to step it up all the time, to show the world that they should rightfully be in the "front of the pack". And others just fill that role when the time calls for it. Most people tend to be drawn to these kind of individuals because they have a certain sense of fearlessness, a boldness that allows them to go out on the limb and dare to lead and be different.
But what happens when you've spent most of your life staying away from the limelight? How do you learn to be bold and lead when for 23 and half years you've been taught to not seek recognition, to get things done quietly? How do you step up when you've been groomed to believe that being "humble" meant leading by example silently, to work in the background? More so, how do you initiate when you've spent so long wondering if anyone cared enough to know more about you? How do you overcome when you so easily doubt yourself? What do you say? What do you do? What are you willing to risk by being bold?
Recently, it feels like a sister has been slowly getting frustrated and thus challenged me because of that. While I have nothing to hide, I never really know what to say. I guess a large part of my hesitation is because I want to get it right, to say the right things the right way. While I've been completely honest, it's been the thought of wanting to "be perfect in delivery" that has seemingly caused me to stumble all the time.
My life is pretty much an open book, but it's always been a book that people have to be willing to go open and read. Never been one to start blabbing my life story because I've often wondered "who cares? It's just me, I'm not interest enough. So by burden others?" Maybe it's all part of a underlying fear of thinking that I'll lose those closest to me by what I have to say, or that people have enough on their plates and they don't need to hear what's going on. I grew up thinking that it's my job to shoulder everything on my own and to take it upon myself to help ease the "yoke" of others - a rather unusual and probably miss-guided definition of self-sacrifice/humility.
For almost three years, I've spent countless hours thinking of what to say, how to say it. If I had written it down all the times I've gone back to change and re-write this unwritten script, I would have probably ran out of paper and ink oh so quickly. I've attempted to analyze, replay, re-delivery, hypothesize and optimize what the most ideal scenario would be. In a way, I've been waiting for a miracle that maybe, just maybe, God would answer me. I've even tried to put it out of my mind, sometimes thinking there's no chance, so why set myself up for a fall?
Yet in less than a month, I've failed repeatedly. Tray and my sister have permanently burned the idea in reminding me that yes, I DO need to step it up. So does "stepping back" really mean stepping back? Stepping back can be understood as not progressing at a previously unconscientiously rate. But it doesn't mean giving up. There comes a point where you have to decide to be bold, be confident and just take the initiative - throw caution into the wind and risk it. Psalm 138:3 and 2 Timothy 1:7 both speak of not being timid and to be bold, to have faith. And while I understand the context of those verses (yes, we won't get into the debate of quoting Scripture out of context), the gist is that we must have faith in God to lead us, to direct us, to show us what His will for is us. Seek and you shall find, call and He will answer.
Sometimes however, taking initiative does mean waiting, especially when time and space is needed. As good as things are and may hope to be, patience requires a discipline like no other. Patience requires a willingness to wait until "the time is right", until the right action is required. To quote from a movie most of seen in the last year or two, patience requires perseverance – "continuing in a course of action without regard to discouragement, opposition or previous failure." There are very things harder than putting yourself out on the line and just waiting for response. It's a similar kind of faith to when we put our faith in God – you step out from the cliff's edge and pray that you don’t fall.
God never gives us a challenge that we cannot handle. At the same time, the challenges that God gives requires us to make a choice and to possess a will that keeps us true to our choice. Well, I've made my choice and when God asked me what would I do if I could choose again, I told Him that I would still make the same decision. Certainly, there have been times where God and I engaged in a good "verbal" sparring, but I realize that it was because He had a lesson to teach me and that I needed to learn it.
I asked God why and He said, "Because, even though you have chosen wholeheartedly, you still need to learn. You need not doubt, just be faithful, be patient and I will lead you". So now I'm learning.
God asked why, and I said, "Because you gave me free will to choose. Therefore I willingly chose because my heart, soul and will led me to. I pray that if this is Your will, let it be so when you deem it to be right. Until then, give me patience and teach me."
