People. Conversations. Thoughts.

The first week of Feb. I met up so many people it was ridiculous. But somehow God provided the exact encouragements I needed in the moment of doubt. Here were some conversations and thoughts I had with people with few words summaries of what they were about. This is more for me to remember than for others to understand... cuz people most likely wont ;)

Jan. 29 -Feb. 3, 2010

Fri.: Joey and Aaron "Patience. You're laying the foundation."

Sat.: Grace "Let go and let God. It'll be ok."

Sun.: Joanna "It's ok to doubt. God can handle it."

Mon.: Sophia "Karaoke.", Kristel "learning to think.", Minhee & PJ "Be faithful to the people God's brought.", Inhae "The church is Christ's bride.", Jeka "Pray.", Lauren "sing."

Tues.: Coco "Obama can't try to solve everything, just a few things at a time or nothing will ever get accomplished." & Florida "People can make a difference.", Adoara "training to be a discipler", Aran & Tia "What is so great about God' grace? LG seems like an obligation.", Primo "We are one. We are a family.", Minhee "God loves you. He's soooo good to you." (phone)

Wed.: Roger "When ppl doubt, I ain't worried. God is still gunna be God. That's the truth."

Unexpected Awesomeness

As I was folding my clothes in the laundry room, I felt the urge to talk to the girl standing next to me. The room was silent because all the machines had stopped, and we were alone. I didn't know how to start the conversation, so I did what I always do in silent/awkward situations: sing. I started to hum "Lean on Me" and before I knew it, the girl next to me started humming along! We added in the words and even harmonized! We felt a instant connection through music and it felt oddly natural, as in not awkward at all! Afterwards, we shook hands and exchanged names, info about our majors, dorm floor, etc. I'm thankful to have found a new friend, and now giving me motivation to wash my clothes more often.

"Home Is Where the Heart Is" Reflection

***please read "Home Is Where the Heart" poem in the prior entry first***

If people last year asked me where I thought my home was, I probably would have answered in the west suburbs of Downers Grove without hesitation. However, I consider Chicago as my home more and more now at my second year here at UIC. I wouldn’t say I’m a “true” Chicagoan, but I’m getting there; I want to get there (my definition of a “true” Chicagoan will be explained later). The reason for this change is because the City is now the environment surrounding me that is affecting me, shaping me, and changing my perspective about life, the world, society, and even my own identity.

Having established that my home is now in Chicago, I began to ask myself how I felt and thought about the City. One of the first things I felt was fear and anger as I thought about the City’s corruption, segregation, violence, injustice, and racism. A big part of UIC’s education in the Liberal arts and Science department is learning about the social problems in our society, and living in the City allows us as students to see these problems if we choose to. These thoughts got me really confused because… why would I want Chicago to be my home if this was how I felt about it. I started to think about racial segregation that’s seen so starkly in Chicago neighborhoods and reflected on UIC’s campus although it is one of the most diverse campuses in the US, but one of the most divided. For the most part, from my observation, Asians stick with Asians, Blacks stick with Blacks, Indians with Indians, and so forth. One would think that there would be a lot of opportunities of interracial mingling at such a diverse university, but it’s not happening, at least not to the extent that UIC has the potential to do.

Then, I started to think about all the prejudice and stereotypes people, including myself, have put on one another. I began to write about all the prejudice thoughts I’ve had about each racial group and even collected some ideas from my friends. When I wrote them all down, I got even more scared. But this time, I got scared of myself and how I had thought these things and even believed them at times. I thought about times I’ve walked to the other side of the street when I saw a black man walking toward me at night. Or when I thought Indians and Pakistanis were all mean, selfish, and inconsiderate people because I didn’t like this one Indian girl in my class. So, I really began to question, “Can I consider Chicago my home when I can’t even accept all the different types of people around me? Chicago is such a diverse City, how will I survive with these kinds of thought? Where did these kinds of thought even come from?”

This was when I began to think about the home I grew up in, and how my home during my adolescent years shaped my thinking and attitude about life and about other people. I originally wanted to blame my safe, sheltered environment in the suburbs for not exposing me to the violence, economic injustice, and what not that are more clearly seen in the City. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized those are all excuses. My high school was pretty diverse compared to other high schools around my town. I was educated about social injustice and racism from the books I read and discussions with friends. So again, where did my prejudice come from? I wanted to point the fingers at my parents because all parents have a great influence on how a child thinks during their developmental stages. My parents, both Taiwanese, had prejudice against the Chinese and Indians. Many discussions at the dinner table were about how cheap Indian and Chinese people are when I was growing up. However, I knew they were biased and ignorant because they hardly interacted with Indians and rarely tried to get to know any Chinese. So, my questions still stood. What is the root of my misconceptions?

I finally realized that these thoughts were rooted in my own, pride-ridden heart. I don’t mean to put these labels on people, but I realized living in the City, those thoughts just kind of pop up in my mind. Sometimes, when I walk pass a black person, I think, “don’t think they’re bad or stupid people.” But the fact that I have to remind myself to NOT think that way shows me that I AM thinking that way. I find myself suppressing my prejudice when I ride in the CTA and even in class, consistently reminding myself that I am no better, no smarter than other people. I hope there will come a day when I’ll be humble enough that I won’t have these thoughts about other people. In fact, I constantly ask God fix my heart to give me a heart of humility like Jesus’.

With all that said, the phrase “home is where the heart is” is pretty abstract. It kind of evolved as I was writing my poem from home as an environment to where my literal heart was. Home “as an environment” is where the heart is because, whether we like it or not, we have some sort of connection to the environment we grow up in. This gives us that “homesickness” we feel sometimes. A bit of ourselves, a bit of our hearts stay with the places we grow up in. In another sense, home is where the heart is because what I think and what I say is often a clear a reflection of my heart motives. So, my heart motives itself creates an environment that I can also call my home. It sometimes ain’t a pretty place, but Jesus is fixing it one day at a time.

Back to what I mentioned earlier about what it means to be a true Chicagoan, I believe a “true” Chicagoan is someone who really has a heart for Chicago; one who is really aware and actually cares about what’s going on, and one who is determined to make a difference. Someone could have grown up in Chicago all their lives and not be a “true” Chicagoan because they don’t give a crap about issues that are affecting people everyday. I think this is true for any town or city. Therefore, this is why I say Chicago is becoming my home: I am growing a bigger heart for my City, my home.

(Note: this was an assignment for my Asian American Literature seminar)

Home is Where the Heart is

Walkin down the streets

Of Chi-Town City

To the left, to the right

All these different people around me

Which got me thinkin

Is Chi-Town really now my home to be?

Cuz you see

I have all these cultural prejudice

I fear myself cuz

I don’t even know how I came to this

I fear robbers, dealers, rapists, and killers

Poppin up in allies, in crime alerts

To no one’s surprise 95% reported are black

Then I start to think

Damn those perpetrators

Fillin up statistics to prove it’s explicit

The problem of the city has a color.

And it’s black

Home is where the heart is

Damn, how did I come thinking this?

Home is where the heart is

Who can save a sick heart like this?

Most people won’t even admit

But they too have thought it:

Blacks from the South

Pollutin’ our City with violence

Givin’ us fame as the number one state

In highest number of murders in the U.S.A.

Browns are cheap, and yes, they do cheat

Doin’ American jobs all the way from India

Managing Dunkin Donuts, Subways

Speak English, I can’t understand ya!

Yellows are all smart and nerdy

They always squinty cuz their eyes so chinky

Over-populating our suburbs cities

With extensive exclusivity

Latinos, all illegals

Ship ‘em back!

unless they good at mowing the lawn

or makin’ cheap clothes

Whites… (I had a harder time with this one)

Stupid blondes, stupid jocks

Privileged and unappreciative

Drunk hillbillies rednecks

Whites, yes, they’re the racists

STOP! That’s enough!

It’s time to reexamine

The roots of these misconceptions

Seeded in my home that manifests these perceptions

Home is where the heart is

My heart don’t wanna deal with this

Home is where the heart is

Shute, I don’t even know where my heart is!

You see, home ain’t a set location

It’s an environment we were raised up in

An environment that shapes our identity

Affects our thinking about our humanity

What we believe, how we perceive,

Why we act the way we do

It also shapes our attitudes

In an environment there are people

Parents, siblings, neighbors

Friends, teachers, pastors

Inspiring us, corrupting us

Into extraordinary or messed up people

In an environment there are spaces

Single houses with pools enclosed by fences

Lakefront Condos in Five Star High rises

Or trailer parks, cheap motels

Low-class apartments with cracked up stairwells

Temporary, packed-in, no room for luxury

What about…

Parks, schools with playgrounds and fields

Or gang infested lots, big guns, but no shields

Hmm…

Artopolus, Italian Village, Joyee’s, and Bennigan’s

Or McDonald’s, Burger King,

Only a dollar per person

These places create spaces

That make the environment we’re raised up in

Home is where the heart is

My heart was safe, like the ones enclosed by fences

Home is where the heart is

My heart was free, to play in the park

Without a worry for gang-affiliated violence

I grew up in a suburb

A quiet place of comfort

My high school was pretty diverse

I had friends of all different colors

Yes, there were still divisions

Assorted degrees of animosity

Within the student body

But nothing like what I see in the City

Chicago is Great!

One of the most diverse cities

The reason I came to UIC instead of Champaign

But it’s also one of the most segregated

Economically, racially

Extreme visibility

CTA transportation shows clear this city’s condition

Majority used by minorities

Charged even more for the City’s deficiencies

Further increasing economic inequality

Continuation, the history of segregation

This is Chi-City’s sick condition

Like the minds of many of its citizens

Stereotypes, prejudice

Never thought I was a racist

So why did I take in those deceptions?

Even unconsciously, unwillingly

Start believing them at times

When I came to the city

They popped up even more frequently in my mind

I can blame my environment

People, my parents

But ultimately…

Home is where the heart is

My heart, the seeds of these misconceptions

My heart, sickened with pride

Taking in lies

Constantly fed with non-sense information

My heart, stained by iniquity

This is the state of humanity

Home is where the heart is

Who can save a sick heart like this?

The answer is Jesus.

It's ALL about Jesus

It's been a while since my last post. but i've actually started 3 posts since then, but havent finished any of them. It takes me too long and i just give up after attempting to write my thoughts down after 2 hrs, yet producing only one paragraph. I hate it. I wish i was better with my words. I wish i was good at rhyming and writing lyrics that Lauren Hill. I wanna rap. I wanna do Spoken Word. I wanna dance and play the djembe. just need time and practice i guess... and a djembe.

Poem inspired by Seda...

These Clothes on My Back (part 1)

these clothes on my back
hidin the shame, the guilt, the pain
underneath these fig leaves, bare with fear
attempting to hide, even to lie, to deny
the one and only Creator, my Savior

I wear my confession
needing Independence, my misconception
this rag remindin me
this was not how I was meant to be

I dont deserve to wear no other
than these rags, marked by scarlet letter
remindin me, I am a sinner!
symbolized by these clothes on my back


God's been reminding me that I'm not as I think I am. I did not choose Jesus. but he chose me. nothing about me deserves forgiveness. deserves acceptance. deserves rewards. God doesnt owe me anything. Often i forget this because after being a Christian for a while, I start thinking "look God! I'm growing in my faith, I'm learning about you, I'm reading the Bible and praying, I'm serving in the church and trying to love your people, you gotta bless me a lil. you gotta show yourself to me, cuz you know.. i'm.. i'm seeking after you, i'm depending on you. So, God, you gotta do this for me, you gotta do this for my Life Group, you gotta do this and that in our church." Now there's no problem with asking for God to work in people's hearts or bless others and myself. But on what bases? Is it to glorify God or is it because I "did" something for God? my attitude has been more along the lines of the latter, that God owes me something because I gave my life to Him. Writing it out now just makes it sound even more ridiculous. I'm the one that owe God MY life because HE gave HIS life for me. It's a payment I'll never be able to come up with no matter what I do "for him." This is what God's been reminding me with "these clothes on my back."

My youth director's wife has been posting up blogs titled "the necessity of clothing." All I gotta say is... it's all about Jesus. the clothes we wear, the food we eat, the songs we sing, the homework we do, the community we try to build, the longs drives to Evanston, the 6:30am morning prayer, the 7:30pm prayer, the games we played at H-Games, the relationships we invest in.... it's ALLLL about Jesus. it's hard to explain, but when things are put in that perspective, all of those things listed above gains SO much more significance. P. Seth spoke about God's sovereignty last Sunday. and again, it's all about Jesus, God's ultimate glory. I've been reading through the book of John and this passage is from John 17:1-5...

"Father, the time has come. Glorify your Son, that your Son may glorify you. 2For you granted him authority over all people that he might give eternal life to all those you have given him. 3Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. 4I have brought you glory on earth by completing the work you gave me to do. 5And now, Father, glorify me in your presence with the glory I had with you before the world began."

I think Jesus is talking something about his glory if i'm reading correctly. actually in ch. 16 and throughout 17, Jesus talks about God's glory given to Jesus, and how Jesus give His glory to His disciples.

DANG! even as I'm typing this right now the song "Shine" by Matt Redman is playing on Pandora! with lyrics:

We will shine like stars in the universe,
Holding out Your truth in the darkest place.
We´ll be living for Your glory,
Jesus we´ll be living for Your glory.
We will burn so bright with Your praise O God,
And declare Your light to this broken world.
We´ll be living for Your glory,
Jesus we´ll be living for Your glory."

even as we shared out testimonies this week at LIFE Group, I give him glory for being faithful and sovereign in each of our lives and bringing us all together in the CMW lounge on a Wednesday.

aight. my 2 hrs has passed. I'm goin out for a walk in da city! peace.

a bridge, I am

I really dont know what this entry is going to be on. i just wanted to write cuz there's a lot on my mind. no time to sort em out. So i apologise before hand for any unclearity.

ride back home was silent
so awkward between my parents
I sat in the back with realization
that I just came home to this messed-up situation

at dinner my dad ate silently
my mom talked unendingly
about what she thinks she knows about Christianity
occasionally, dad jumping in with assumptions and generalizations. futility
often times i have to correct her, correct him
but even more times, I am the bridge between them

a bridge, I am
as i sat between them on the couch
a bridge, I am
as they talked indirectly talk to each other by talking to me
a bridge, I am
after a fight, they just want someone to understand
although they themselves really don't

There are other things in mind too: retreat (still working on that blog), church community, LCG, sins, ninja (the game), pride, loving people, not-caring about people, nutrition, TAF Chicago, my sister.

I told myself I want my blog to be a blessing for other ppl rather than ranting about my own life. but..... maybe next time.

For Me

To tell you the truth, I was gunna to give up bloggin cuz i wasn't gettin any comments for a while. I thought, what's the point if ppl aren't reading? and if they ARE reading, why write if they don't care enough to leave a comment? selfish. i know. but that's just kinda how i am when it comes to blogging. If ppl aint gunna care for it, i'd rather just write in my journal. BUT I think i should do this for me... i guess. it might help me sort out my thoughts through out the yr. or just take up more of my time. still deciding tho...

randoms:

"I guess" has been my favorite phrase these past few days.

I was at a Grace's memorial and and Jeff's mom's funeral this past weekend, and i just can't help but to think about my own death. I'm not being morbid or wutever. but just kinda fun to think about. I really hope there will be a celebration at my memorial, too. with people dancing, jumpin up and down, and singing their hearts out. I'd wanna hear people sing Israel Houghton's "Rejoice!" song at my memorial/funeral while im up there with Jesus. I love that song!

I finally rode?/rid?/past-tense-of-ride? on my scooter around campus today. i love it! it's kinda ghetto cuz the handles are slippin off and its rusty. but it gets me places 3x as fast and is easier to maneuver than a skateboard. except i cant figure out how to fold it. wutever, its fun to be on wheels =) sorry, Inhae ;P

i reallllly want a djeme, or just ANY percussion instrument to play on. Oh dear drums, when will we finally meet??

poems, lyrical, and spoken word? i wanna learn. I love Lauryn Hill. keep writin poems Minhee!

Family... Jesus answers prayers. but still SO MUCH more work to be done. quick update: my parents got into a huge fight last saturday. didnt want to talk to each other, talk about giving up. My Uncle who's been trying to help them communicate came back from Houston called yesterday, told me he's gunna keep helping and encouraging me to support my parents. He went over to my house yesterday and sat down with both of em apparently. I got a call last night from my dad in tears telling me that things are gunna be ok. They talked it out and they're gunna keep trying to mend their relationship. My mom was in tears, too. and so was my uncle. So I have no idea what went down, but I know it's God's mercy and grace every step forward they take. Thank you Lord for providing my Uncle to help share the burden. and thank you for all the people that kept my family and I in their prayers. and for brothers and sisters that are comforting me and encouraging me along the way.