To Be Brave or Be Safe?

In fact, for parents, Jesus asks us, I think, to make yet another choice. Are we raising our children to be brave or to be safe? Are we raising our children to be loving or to be smart? Raising them to be successful or significant? How does God raise his children? This marvelous quote from C.S. Lewis I’d like to have you look at for just a moment: “Love is something more stern and splendid than mere kindness…Kindness merely as such cares not whether its object becomes good or bad, provided only that it escapes suffering.” My vulnerabilities as a parent are such that sometimes I just want my kids to escape suffering. But then they just can’t be good or brave.

IJM’s almost 10-years-old now, and one of the privileges I’ve had is ten years of interns at IJM. There are hundreds of them now who have served with us. And one other thing I’ve had a chance to connect to is hundreds of intern parents. We take these very young, earnest, incredibly sharp, brilliant Christian young people and send them off to these very tough places to go serve some very needy and hurting people. And this is a tough step of faith for the young people, but this is a leap of faith for the parents. It’s incredible to watch because all their life these parents have been plowing faith into their children, and the love of Jesus, and it turns out their children actually believe it! And they go do it! And the parents are out of their minds! Sometimes I wonder, because I think there comes a time when the child asks his mom and dad, "Mom and dad, why are you giving me all this stuff? Because you've given me food and shelter and clothing and great education and discipline and faith and structure and all these things, but mom, dad, why are you giving me all this stuff? And the honest answer for me is that I'm giving you all this stuff so you'll be safe. And I think my kid looks up to me and says, "Really? That's it? That's your grand ambition for me? That nothing bad happens?" And I think something inside of them dies. - Gary Haugen, Director and CEO of International Justice Mission (IJM)

I was reading through IJM's website to look for possible internships, and I came across this sermon that Gary Haugen gave at a church. And as I was reading this sermon, I was reminded of the initial small steps I've taken towards my destiny in these past eight years in Ann Arbor.

For the longest time, I had convinced myself that I was not called to missions work. I loved my ESPN, my burgers, my bed, my car, and all the comforts afforded to me by my privileged life in America. I could not imagine living in a foreign land, eating exotic foods I couldn't even pronounce, and around people who couldn't speak the same language. I knew in my head that there were lost people who needed to hear the Gospel, but I didn't want to be the person who God could use to share the good news.

During my senior year of college, Nicholas Kristof, the New York Times writer, began a series of articles centered around the sex trafficking problem in Cambodia. Girls, as young as six, were being sold into brothels to be used as a sex slave for western tourists. That absolutely disgusted me, and a part of me wanted to do something to stop this injustice from continuing. Sovereignly, that summer, HMCC would send a missions team to Cambodia and Thailand, and I was given the opportunity to apply to be part of that team. But I struggled. On one hand I wanted to be brave and be available to minister to the people in Southeast Asia, whatever their needs were. On the other, I loved my comforts of home too much to give up for some people I didn't even know. But thank God for some key older brothers and pastors in my life who spoke loving truth to make me evaluate my heart. In the end I decided to take that leap of faith and go to Cambodia and Thailand for that summer, and that decision has made all the difference.

I love my parents, who are God-fearing Christians. My mom tells me she prays every morning for my brother and me. She tells me she's proud of us that we still follow Jesus and serve our churches that we do. But she has her limitations. Last year, I was convicted to go on one more summer missions trip to confirm different things that God was putting on my heart. I told my mom that I wanted to go to a communist country to be available to do anything and everything. My mom hesitated before telling me to reconsider. She said that it'd be too dangerous and that if I wanted to, I could go to China later on in life. She told me that people here in America need Jesus also, and she asked me why I would want to risk" my life by going to a closed country. I decided to obey God and not my mom.

I had grown up to be cautious and careful, to be risk-averse and conservative. And I think a part of me did die in the process. The excitement that comes from being part of an adventure was all but gone in my life. But slowly God has been renewing me as I learn more of His calling for me. When He calls me to have faith, He brings me to a place where faith is possible--in the uncertainties, unknowns, difficulties, etc. Obedience to God is often hard and scary; but it is richly rewarding. And though I know the decisions I will make in the future will only get harder and scarier, I pray that I would muster the courage to choose to be brave and follow conviction over safety and comfort.

Life Goes On

More and more people are packing their bags and leaving Ann Arbor. Some are gone for the summer. Others are gone for good. And soon enough, I will join the ranks. And with that thought comes a flood of emotions. Relief. Joy. Excitement. Trepidation. Anxiety. Doubt. Regret. Sadness.

I will admit, I am a sentimental fellow. I can get emotional at times, especially when good friends come and go. In the past year, many of my friends have left town. Some to Chicago, some to New York, some internationally, and others in various places around the world. This week alone, people have moved on from Michigan to Austin, New York, and New Jersey. It is sad to say goodbye, especially with the uncertainty that we'll ever cross paths again.

There was a time when I would wallow in my sadness as friends departed one by one. Recollecting all the fond memories made it so hard to imagine life apart from them. The bond and emotional attachment seemed too strong to sever, and sometimes I'd wonder if it would've been better to never have met them. But I've come to realize how short-sighted that mentality had been. Were it not for these friends, I would not have learned all the lessons I did in these past eight years. I would not have known what it meant to trust, encourage, serve, and love others. I would not have had anyone to support me through struggles and share in my triumphs. Each friend has played a significant role in the formation of my worldview and character.

While it is sad to have people leave after years of friendships forged through fire, it is a wonderful thing that we are moving on. Life indeed does go on, near or apart from our friends. We will live to see another day, near or apart from our friends. But I am convinced that distance does not define relationships, especially with the innovative means of telecommunications today.

So in this season of good-byes, I say, life's too precious to get all choked up in tears and sadness. I choose to look at the possibilities of the future, of where God is calling me and where God is calling my friends. So whether in New York, the Midwest, in California, in Texas, or in Korea, in China, in Taiwan, whether you're an i-banker, a med student, a teacher, homebody, I'm excited to see how our lives will turn out. I'm looking forward to hearing stories via gchat, email, facebook, blogs, and phone calls, and maybe possibly in future weddings and reunions.

Til then...

Responsibility

Yesterday was Father's Day. I love my dad, flaws and all, for all that he's done for me and my family. I can never underestimate the role that he has played in my life. And I thank God for him and the love he shows.

Yesterday was also a day when the Democratic presumptive nominee for the presidency gave a speech at an African-American church in Chicago. The theme of the message was a very sensitive and delicate matter in the black community - the lack of moral responsibility of the black male in the family. Mr. Obama said, "Too many fathers are M.I.A., too many fathers are AWOL, missing from too many lives and too many homes. They have abandoned their responsibilities, acting like boys instead of men. And the foundations of our families are weaker because of it." He later went on to say, "We need families to raise our children. We need fathers to recognize that responsibility doesn't just end at conception. That doesn't just make you a father. What makes you a man is not the ability to have a child. Any fool can have a child. That doesn't make you a father. It's the courage to raise a child that makes you a father." And though I do not necessarily agree with all of his political views, I will give him credit for the audacity to speak so bluntly on this race-sensitive matter.

But to take it one notch higher, it is not just an African-American problem, although it is more prevalent in the black community. The strength of families strongly depend on the health and vibrancy of two parents (mother and father) in all communities, and in this post-baby boomer generation, there seems to be a dearth of responsible young males dedicated to their wives and their children. How do you inspire faithful and responsible males in this generation in which popular culture says that sleeping around and having children out of wedlock is the fun thing to do? It almost seems hopeless.

But one thing that encouraged me yesterday was when some of the wives of our church read letters written from their hearts to their husbands and the fathers of their children. It showed me a glimpse of hope that there are men in the church today who are striving to fulfill their calling to be faithful husbands and loving fathers. And though I am still far away from even thinking about being a husband and a father, I am inspired by the examples I see and hope to follow in their footsteps.

The Local Church

About a year ago, I was in western China as part of a summer missions team. Per the missionary's directive, we were encouraged to connect with locals and share the Gospel, something we never anticipated doing in a "closed-country." We traveled from village to village and city to city praying that people would come to accept this good news.

In one of the cities, a few of us stumbled across a Muslim woman (most of the people we met were Muslim) who was inside a school complex. Somehow we found ourselves talking with her, and soon, we even began to share the Gospel. Starting from Adam and Eve and the original sin to the birth and death and resurrection of Christ, we methodically went over the Bible to share about the redemptive work of Jesus and what it meant for her life. We kept asking if she understood concepts of sin and atonement, and she said she did. She seemed to agree with everything we were sharing, which was exciting considering all the people we shared the Gospel with before had rejected us. So eventually, we told her that Jesus wanted to save her and all she had to do was invite Jesus into her life and accept that she could not be saved except through faith in Jesus Christ as her Lord and Savior. She paused for a long time to consider it, but ultimately said she couldn't. We asked her why she couldn't. She said the only reason was that all of her friends and family were Muslim and that Islam was part of their culture and heritage. She couldn't get over the fact that she didn't know any other person of her kind that followed Christ; there was no local church to be a viable witness. That was her stumbling block.

That experience confirmed one of the greatest lessons I've learned during my extended stay in Michigan. God knew what He was doing when I didn't understand why I kept getting the conviction to stay in Ann Arbor. I had only begun getting serious about following Christ by the time I graduated college; staying longer helped me to develop stronger convictions about the local church by serving HMCC.

By no means was my experience with HMCC perfect. But despite all of its flaws, I thank God for the church because it has taught me so much as I am preparing to move onto the next stage of life. The community is priceless, and I'll miss the people that have loved me, encouraged me, pushed me, inspired me, challenged me, rebuked me, and been there for me all these years.

My prayer is this: that HMCC would remain steadfast to its vision of transforming lost people into Christ disciples who will then transform the world. Whether in Ann Arbor, in Chicago, in Austin, in Indonesia, and wherever else God takes the church, I pray that the Gospel would take root and multiply.