Man of Faith

I'm reading through the book of Judges. I come to Gideon's story. The man is recorded in the hall of faith (Hebrews 11) as being a man of great faith. But when Gideon is introduced, he does not seem to possess such faith. He seems insecure when God calls him to lead the Israelites against their Midian oppressors. But Lord, how can I save Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family. This man of faith tests God by demanding God show him signs to prove to him that God is going to fulfill His promise. And I feel I am a poorer reflection of Gideon. But God, how can you use me in your redemptive purposes? If you are really God, do this for me, and then I will believe.

But Gideon did have faith. Like other great men and women of faith that came before and after him, Gideon eventually believed, despite overwhelming odds, and God rewarded such faith. God worked in spite of his insecurities. God answered Gideon and showed that He was trustworthy. And with 300 men, he conquered the Midianite army, which was said to have had been impossible to enumerate.

How timely I revisit the story of Gideon at the start of a new year. As I wrote last time, I really want to learn to live in a manner that requires radical faith. How much more radical can it be than fighting an army too large to even count with a mere 300 men? How did a man who was so insecure in his identity believe in God when it did not make any logical sense? How does one live with such determination and seemingly reckless behavior and end up doing amazing things for God?

I want to live like that. I want to live like Abram, who left the comforts of his home in Ur and Haran for the vast unknown promised land. I want to live like Abraham, who obeyed God and brought his only son, Isaac, to the altar. I want to live like Moses, who had to deal with his past issues and insecurities to stand up to the most powerful man of his time and order him to let his people go. I want to live like Joshua, who had to fill the biggest shoes left by the death of Moses, and lead God's people into the promised land. I want to live like David, who rose from being a shepherd boy to the greatest King of Israel from whom would come the eventual Messiah. I want to live like Jesus' disciples, poor fishermen and zealots and tax collectors, who gave up everything and followed a carpentar's son to transform the world. I want to live like Paul, who went from the greatest persecutor of the church to one of its greatest missionaries. I want to live like Hudson Taylor, C.T. Studd, David Livingstone, Adoniram Judson, William Wilbeforce, Jim Elliot.

They all forsook the comforts of this world for something more eternal. And the world was not worthy of them.

Reflections

The year is slowly ticking down to its final moments. At this time tomorrow, millions will gather in the heart of Manhattan to watch a crystal drop ball and ring in a new year. It is crazy to think that 364 days have passed. A lot has transpired over those days. There have been good times; there have been tough losses. It has been fun and exciting while also filled with uncertainty and dread. I've experienced love and grace, rejection and rebukes, apathy and cynicism, hope and fulfillment. As one year passes and a new one approaches, it has been good to reflect on the lessons God has taught me.

Throughout this year, one of the fundamental things I learned was how sovereign God was. He knows what He is doing, even when I don't necessarily know. At this point a year ago, I was rushing to send out all my graduate school applications in hopes that one school would accept me. A few months later, I received the first rejection letter from the school of my dreams. But as soon as I began to despair, God rebuked me by sending me the first acceptance letter from another one of my top choices. Though my grades and experiences were lacking, God, in His marvelous plan, brought me to where I needed to be doing what I needed to be doing. And upon starting school, God continued to teach me about His sovereignty. Despite feelings of inadequacies in my studies, He provided the strength for me to finish assignments and finish the semester well. The grades I received were purely by the grace of God.

Related to this lesson, I'm desperately trying to learn to live a life that requires faith. I'm the type of person who needs to know every single piece of information available before making a decision. Over time and having gone through many circumstances, I've become so risk-averse that I cannot will myself to make a decision until I know with almost absolute certainty. And that fear has become such a stronghold in my life. At times it is paralyzing, especially when God wants to move in a certain direction and every logical part of me says no to Him. Something that Pastor Matt Driscoll said in one of his sermons has stuck with me ever since I first heard it. "But sometimes when you've done all you can, you have to take a calculated risk trusting that God is sovereign and good and He will figure things out...there are occasions it is risk, not foolishness, not a life of random blind foolishness, but a life of faith not folly where risk must be taken. Those of you who are overly cautious, those of you who must have an answer to everything, those of you who must think through the contingency plan for every contingency plan before you act, you may lack a proper understanding of God as sovereign and good. I'm not saying planning is bad, I'm not saying preparing is bad, I'm not saying contingency plans are bad but I'm saying at some point you must trust and in faith you must proceed forward and sometimes faith involves risk."

God even speaks to me on this very issue through Malcolm Gladwell, in his book "Blink." He writes, "We live in a world saturated with information. We have virtually unlimited amounts of data at our fingertips at all times, and we're well versed in the arguments about the dangers of not knowing enough and not doing our homework. But what I have sensed is an enormous frustration with the unexpected costs of knowing too much, of breing inundated with information. We have come to confuse information with understanding." That is me in a nutshell. I've confused information with understanding. When it comes to making decisions, I have this mentality that I need to know as much information as possible. Gladwell points out in the book that too much information severely impairs judgment and he cites case studies to prove this. I can't even count with my fingers how many times I've made poor decisions primarily because I've come to believe that I need to know every little piece of information before deciding on something.

This coming year, I want to live an adventure. This past Sunday, at RWC, the guest speaker spoke a timely message. I don't want to settle for mediocrity or anything that is subpar to what God had intended for me. Tehrah, the father of Abram, on his way to Canaan, stopped at Haran and settled there. He missed out on what God had for him in Canaan. He was comfortable. He found security. He settled. It was only through his son that God made a covenant, that Abram would become Abraham, the father of many nations. Abraham trusted God and obeyed. He did not know what lay ahead of him. He had security in Haran. Yet, he had faith and left everything. I want to be able to do that. He heard the voice of God and left. I hear the voice of God and then I need to cover my bases with contingency plans just in case things don't work out. And that is what I am praying that I will be able to do next year. Every step of the way, I want to have simple trust in God. If He has gotten me here this far, why would He fail me now?

On that note, Happy New Years!

Christmas

But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins." All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: "The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel--which means God with us." - Matthew 1:20-22

Jesus is the reason for the season lest we ever forget.

God's Sovereignty

It is the wee hours of the morning, and I have just completed my last piece of work as part of my first of presumably many hell weeks during grad school. In the past 24 hours, I have had 2 critical analysis papers to write, 1 presentation to do in class, and an econ exam. I have yet to touch my Chinese homework, but all I can think about is going home this weekend and relaxing.

Having loaded up on sugar and caffeine to stay awake, I decided to blog about something that's been on my mind recently: God's sovereignty. It is a term widely circulated in the Christian community. I've been wrestling with it for awhile now, an oft-repeated lingo in my prayers and discussions with other believers. What does that mean? Why do I keep saying it?

A few months ago, though I did not physically attend the conference, I listened to some of the sermons preached during AMI Revolution. The sermons that Dr. Steve Lee gave remarkably centered on the concept of sovereignty in the work of God as seen through the life of Esther. A familiar story: Esther, an orphaned Jewish girl, is chosen by a drunk Persian king, Xerxes, to be his queen. Xerxes is persuaded to issue an edict to kill all Jews. Mordecai, who had adopted Esther before, tells Esther that she must go and tell the king to annul the edict to which Esther replies that if she approaches the king without being summoned, she would surely die and that she cannot go. Mordecai responds and says, "For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father's family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?" And Esther responds by ordering Mordecai to gather all the Jews and fast for her. "When this is done, I will go to the king, even though it is against the law. And if I perish, I perish."

God's sovereignty rests in the knowledge that God's plan will prevail regardless of human participation. "Relief and deliverance will arise from another place..." Too often, I think to myself that my actions will ultimately dictate what happens in life. From important decisions like "what am I going to study", "where am I going to live" or "who am I going to marry" to little ones like "what am I going to eat for dinner", "how many hours of sleep will I get tonight?", I think that those decisions will forever alter my life and possibly lead me on a path that's different from where God intends me to be. But I'm learning this concept of God's sovereignty over and over again. God's plan is independent to my actions. God's plan will be done; He just invites me along for the ride.

A case in point is graduate school. I keep beating this over and over again, but I believe this is a lesson that is so fundamental that I wish to share. My first two years of undergrad were marked with constant failures and disillusionment. I had never seen grades that low in my life, so low that the probabilities of me being put on academic probation were high. Until the day I left Ann Arbor, I wore those two years as a sign of failure around my neck. After graduation, amazingly on time, I had trouble conceptualizing how God could use me with a transcript that was not at all attractive to employers and graduate schools. And even after years out of college, I still saw my academic failures as a tremendous source of insecurity and I kept delaying graduate school plans. During the summer or 2007, while in China, I felt that God was speaking to me on one of the many train rides we took. It was almost a calming voice that said, "Be still and know that I am God. Trust in me that I will make your paths straight." It was around this time when I was thinking about my future considerably, and later in that trip, God, once again, spoke words of confirmation. "This is why I brought you to China, to give you a glimpse of what I have called you to. Now do not fear and go." And I felt that command to go was a confirmation that God wanted me to pursue the convictions he had placed on my heart for awhile. And upon returning, I took my GREs and applied to several schools. I felt that if God really wanted me to go to graduate school and pursue this path, that only He could make it happen. My competitive standing alone would not get me in, and again, my insecurities came up and I began to listen to the lies of Satan, that I wasn't smart enough, wasn't good enough, etc. But when I got my acceptance letter to one of the top schools in my field, I knew that God is sovereign. If it is His will, He will make it possible. All He asks is for obedience and faith.

I'm learning that over and over again, each week of graduate school. In different experiences in class, in finding a church, in friendships, in other aspects of life, God is orchestrating things that I simply could not have done on my own. I'm learning to have more faith and worry less because God is in control. His will is going to prevail one way or another. It is up to me to respond in faith like Esther, "If I perish, I perish." I will do what I need to do because God is in control. And even if I make mistakes, God is in control. God is sovereign.

What the Future Holds

Ever since my decision to leave Ann Arbor to pursue a graduate degree in Washington D.C., I've been repeatedly asked to share my vision in life after graduate school. And I simply respond, "I don't know."

I've been struggling for quite awhile about what I should center my academic focus on and finding a clear-cut long-term vision for my life. Coming up from a visionary church culture where everything I did had to have a vision, I found it hard to think that I didn't have a concrete plan for my graduate studies and thereafter. Inwardly, I felt a bit insecure because I didn't have a 10-year plan and how my international relations degree would bring God glory.

Even as I sat down to write my statement of purpose for grad school applications, I was conflicted as to what I wanted to do and what my motivation was. Eventually, I wrote out how each of the graduate program would help me in my interest in seeking political redress for victims of human rights violations in North Korea. But even when I submitted my applications, I was not completely satisfied with my purpose.

But lately, God has been speaking to me and giving me peace in small ways. The cost of following Christ demands radical obedience. When Jesus called the Twelve to follow Him, the disciples needed radical faith to abandon everything. They didn't have the slightest clue as to what following Christ truly meant. They may have speculated how Jesus' calling would play out in their own lives, but they certainly could not have imagined that ten of them would be martyred, one would betray Jesus, and one would live out the rest of his life in exile. It was only when they stepped out in faith and believed that God began setting things in motion and used each of them to accomplish His purposes.

In the same way, I'm beginning to see that work in my life. At each crossroad, He invites me to take a leap of faith. And as I'm beginning to learn how to make decisions based on faith, I realize that God doesn't tell me everything I would like to know. He tells me enough so as to make faith possible. And while it is good to have some idea of a vision, I'm learning that, as with all things, I need to hold it loosely because God's plan will always trump mine. And in terms of where I am now, with the question of what I want to study and for what purpose, I realize there is no such thing as a bad decision. Regardless of whether I focus on human rights issues in the repressive North Korean state or the effects of ethnic conflict in eroding human rights and destabilizing political structures around the world, God can use me. And wherever that takes me, God is control and bids me to come follow Him.

And so, now when people ask me what I want to do with my life, I can confidently say that I don't know but my God does and that's all that matters.

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.

Beginning of the End

It's that time again. Finals are done with, and students are pouring out. Commencement activities are in full swing. But in the midst of all the familiarities, there is something different about this year--at least for me. It's been eight years in the making (some would say four years overdue). It's time for me to begin saying goodbyes to those who have left an impression in my life at one point or another.

Throughout the next two or three months I have left in Ann Arbor, I wish to highlight those people who've made these past eight years memorable. At the very minimum, these entries will serve to remind me of how God faithfully placed these people during a crucial stretch of my young life.

SHIFT_

There was a good chance I would have never met these brothers and sisters. Last spring, I remember going back and forth whether I should stay in Ann Arbor one more year. I was a bit exhausted from serving as a small group leader, and I was beginning to doubt what God was doing in my life. But after much prayer and consultation with older brothers/sisters, I decided to dedicate one more year in serving the local church.

When I first found out about the make-up of the group, I was filled with trepidation because the group was so young. All along, I felt like I didn't have enough time and resources to minister to these brothers and sisters while doing a million other things that I had committed to. But that's when God spoke: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

This year, by no means, has been easy. Every week, God was definitely showing me that I was weak. All the times I tried relying on my past experiences as a small group leader, God broke me. There were times when I wanted to quit as well as times when God was evidently moving. There were times when I questioned whether all the things that Mirae and I were doing were worth it. But in the end, I know that God is faithful.

Last night, as I was watching the video that these guys made for us, I was blown away. Here I was, expecting God to do things my way, but all along, He knew what He was doing in the lives of all the brothers and sisters in the group. And as each person shared on the video, I felt God whispering to me, "it wasn't you leading them. It was me." And it's so true. I didn't d o much. But God took what I offered, and He multiplied it. I see it in their lives. From day one to where they are now. I see the hand of God working in their lives. And I'm amazed. And I thank God for them.

I want to thank each member that's made my last small group a memorable one. Humphrey. Justin. Joel. Paul. Sam. Nina. Lisa. Sieun. Christine. So Yeon. Sarah. Donna. Daniel. Rachel. Nick. Gary. Katie. Mirae. We'll keep in touch. I'm excited to see what God will do in your lives in the years to come. =)

So Amazed

March 9. 2008.

A few days earlier, at work, I received an email from the admissions office at the School of International and Public Affairs at Columbia University. It was a succinct letter denying me of admissions to my dream school. I can't say that I was bitter or upset. I saw it coming, even though I had held out for what little hope I had. But even foreseeing the denial, I could not keep myself from worrying about subsequent decisions from schools. I began to doubt and took matters into my own hands. I needed a fall-back plan and began job-searching at work. I went into HMCC's prayer gathering kind of dejected. I found it difficult to pray, difficult to worship as my mind was going back to the letter I had received from Columbia. Again, God was showing me how much I had not learned about surrender. I began to journal, and as words were being written, I felt God challenge me again and again with a simple question: Who do you say that I am? I responded like Peter. In my mind, I didn't understand why God would keep asking me this question. You are the Christ, the messiah. But God would not let it go. Almost as if He was not fully satisfied with my answer, He probed deeper. Am I really your Christ and Lord? The day's reading for the 40 Days to Destiny Campaign came alive. And God was searching my heart to see if I really believed that Jesus was Lord of my life. On the outside, I tried to appear cool and collected. Oh God will provide. I'm surrendered. I'll be okay if I don't get into any schools. But on the inside, I was anxious. I didn't want to re-apply and look for new jobs, etc. But at the end of the day, I resigned and lifted up a short prayer. God, if you've really convicted me the past four years of a certain direction in life, then I want to trust that you will make it happen. God teach me to surrender daily.

3.11.08

After a long and eventful weekend, I came back from church and passed out in the living room. With my friends from out-of-town visiting for another friend's proposal to his girlfriend, I had quickly forgotten about the anxieties of graduate schools. But after I woke up from the much needed Sunday afternoon nap, I had an urge to check my mailbox. After all, I was expecting a package pertaining to my laptop. But instead, I found a large packet that resembled an admissions package. I quickly tore open the envelope to find an admissions letter from American University. I was floored. I had to read and reread the letter.

American University was definitely one of my top choices. It is ranked in the top ten international relations programs in the country. So when I found out I got accepted, I knew it was all by the grace of God. My academic standings were not all that great and I'm sure there were hundreds of more qualified applicants than me. So for me to gain acceptance into one of the best programs in the country was by far a miracle. It was almost as if God was saying, I created the heavens and the earth. I can move mountains. I can shake the earth. I can do all things. Throughout the night and even all of yesterday, I reflected a lot. I was talking to a brother about the process that God had taken me. And I'm so amazed. Eight years in Ann Arbor. Falling away and rejecting God. Crawling back like the prodigal son. A trip out to Southeast Asia. A trip out to China. Four years of serving the local church through thick and thin. Engineering. Pre-med. History. English. Journalism? Public Policy? International Relations. And here I stand. Completely amazed. Completely broken by the grace of God. Completely thankful for all the experiences God put me through. And I know He's not finished with me just yet.