"Collect, Collect, Then Select"

Those are the four words that almost spelled my emotional doom since I first heard them several years ago. Collect, collect, then select..."admirers are for collecting and bragging about, guys (or girls) exist for your ego and comfort"...that is the real message behind this common quote. The idea appeals to the human heart easily, but it does nothing good in the long run.

For almost half of my life, I used to find pride in how guys would notice me and how even parents and grandparents would urge their family members to go after me. I liked the attention. In my highly social culture, I could feel the vanity factor. I enjoyed being desired and sought; I found value in the idea of being a prize to the guys, even if I never planned to give away that prize anytime soon. The more admirers, the more worth...that's what I believed.

So God started showing me things. The first guy I entertained extensively chose to be with someone else. When I thought others were being serious while I was flirting, I was informed that the other parties were merely just putting me down on the list of girls they've flirted. Someone the whole church encouraged to go after me would refuse to make a move for several years, but fell in love and became engaged within months of meeting the love of his life.

Some of these incidents hurt crazily. Some of them did not hurt at all. And yet...they all showed me one common thing.

What did I gain at all from having multiple guys seeking my attention or hand? Nothing. What purpose was there in knowing how to make a guy like me? Nothing, nothing at all.

I could groom and train myself to attract countless young men if I want to. I know what type of guy needs humor, what kind needs respect, what kind needs gentleness, and what kind needs just time. Sure, I could collect and collect and collect...but is there a point to it?

Instead of getting happiness and confidence...I got consequences.

Yes, I got to make the suitor-rejection speeches and letters that I had always rehearsed as a young girl. But they only brought me broken friendships. Yes, I got to receive gifts and attention and praises. But if even the friendships were lost, the memories were painful anyway.

Yes, I could collect the affections of multiple young men...but I could marry only one person at the end of the day. The ability to attract is not exactly a life-partner quality. When there are guys surrounding me, I might become a good prize, but I might not necessarily make a good wife. Having a range of admirers is not any kind of asset in my potential as a spouse. In fact, if the situations are handled poorly, such a background would actually make me a worse wife, a wife that is proud and attention-seeking.

I do understand that a person with many admirers (whether as a guy or a girl) probably has some reason to cause that situation. Appearances, skills, character, personality, or whatever...there must be something to attract people, and that something is the person's real asset. Assets do cause attraction...but attraction itself is not an asset.

So when I learn how to please the opposite gender, I should learn to serve my family and my future husband, not to attract potential admirers. When I work to improve myself, I should not focus on becoming the ultimate "admiree," but on becoming a godly wife, mother, teacher, or whatever God plans for me to be.

Collect, collect...collecting takes alot of time and effort. Why collect what I would never select? And if God is the One selecting for me, then it would be outright stupid of me to try to collect. My security lies with the Lover of My Soul, not with attention from the opposite gender. May my assets lie with Him and Him alone.

Hannah's Prayer

God has been inconceivably good to me throughout my life, blessing me with love, gifts, talents, and opportunities undeserved. I wholeheartedly acknowledge how wonderfully He has treated me. And yet, as a sinful human being, I have had my share of bitterness and discontentment.

And of all the areas that I might experience discontentment, one stands out...love.

When can I have a boyfriend? Why can't I have a relationship? What hinders me from having a relationship at all? I have repeatedly asked my parents over the years, behind closed doors and oftentimes in tears.

They might have reasons, but they have never sounded reasonable to me. I have grown up all my life a helpless romantic. I have always longed for the time to give myself wholeheartedly to the man I love, to share with him my heart and my life. Yes, I've had my other dreams in terms of ministry and friends and career...but at the end of the day, I've always just wanted to be a committed wife and mother. Why would my parents allow me to pursue everything else, except the one thing I have always longed for?

When my parents tell me why I am not consistent and mature enough to make a serious commitment yet, they actually make sense. They just don't make sense to my childish and selfish heart. And, of course, there is always the comparison factor: Why can't I have a relationship now? I am more ready than so and so, than he or she.

That is the question that always haunts me the most. Why can't I if he or she can? I know that, with the way I am now, I would make a much better partner than many people who are dating (or getting married, for that matter) actually make. Why hold me to such a high standard?

The bitterness almost killed me. It gnawed away at my heart...until God spoke to me through Hannah.

At the beginning of the book of Samuel, Hannah mourned her own barrenness. Her husband's other wife, Peninnah, had many children. Yet Hannah, the godly woman in the family, had no children of her own. She was pestered by Peninnah, and she was looked down upon by her society. In many ways, she was persecuted. Yet still, God refused to give to her a child.

Why?

"Hannah would have made a much better mother than Peninnah ever would have," our pastor preached on Mother's Day, "But God chose to let Hannah turn to Him and pray to Him and wait upon Him...because He had something better, because He was refining her."

Then God give her Samuel, as well as many other children to follow.

The message spoke to my heart. It does not matter how good of a girlfriend or fiance or wife or mother I could be. I am not given those roles at the moment. It does not matter if I am this much more mature or considerate than any other person is, for God does not grant blessings based upon any human merit.

So now, do I still find it hard to trust that God will give me what is better for me than anything others around me have? Oh yes I do.

Do I still foolishly and stubbornly fear that by obeying Him I would miss out on the love of my life? You bet!

But when those thoughts pervade my mind and drive me to complain against God...I think of Hannah, and I think of how much agony she went through before God gave her a son who would be the greatest judge of Jewish history, a boy who became the first of the Old Testament prophets.

God does not give anything based upon how much a person appears to deserve it. Every good and perfect gift is from above...and gifts are things that are not earned. I cannot earn or demand or complain. I can only pray to Him, seek Him, love Him...and commit my life into His hands.

He Knows My Name

I have been called by numerous names throughout my life. Wenslyn, Wen-Wen, Wen, Wens, Wesleen, and my grandmother's famous Son-Hen-Rys-Wen are just a few examples. I've heard of teasing paraphrases from brothers, affectionate pet names from loved ones, and honestly mistaken contortions such as Gwen, Wenston, and Wesley.

I remember walking into my parents' bedroom one day, declaring to my mom that she had given me an irrational name. She looked at me and nodded, "Exactly, that's why it suits you."

Is my name really that hard to know? At our home church, people would know my nickname but misspell my full name. Or some others would recognize my full name only to read it in a sadly mispronounced manner. When I began to attend college in September 2008, things only got worse. Without the family ties that people usually recognize me for, there was practically no reason for anyone to care to remember this whacko of a name.

Wenseen? Weslin? Wendy? Wenslo? People would seriously call me, and I just answer to them all. After all, I knew I was not important. I didn't matter whether anyone knew my name or not. They had no obligation to know. Although it would be nice to be called correctly, I honestly did not mind people's mispronunciation. I knew that selfishness would be the only reason I cared what people thought my name was. I did not mind; I understood.

Then, a truth hit me: "My sheep hear my voice, and I call them by name."

The thought overwhelms me. He knows my name. God knows my name. The incredibility of the idea!

Nothing compares to my insignificance before God; no one can be more undeserving of God's love than I can be. And yet, He knows me, and He calls me by name.

When I reflect upon the number of people that have occupied this planet in this world and throughout history, I realize how truly amazing God's relationship with me is.

He knows me by name; and He knows you by name. Even when nobody else cares, we can rest assured that He does. Whenever loneliness and frustration are overcoming, He knows, He cares...and He calls us to His side.

It's Him

Time is an interesting thing. It can pass by slowly, yet without changing anything. It could also flash by quickly, while turning one's whole world around.

For me, the past five months have been of the latter kind.

After a lengthy, eye-opening trip around North America with my parents, I went to college. The pastor's daughter who had been homeschooled all her life was left alone on a foreign land, in the midst of the bustle of college life. I went from study room to classrooms, I went from reading to note-taking, I went from my own room to a suite of eight girls, I went from being a spotlight girl in a four-hundred-people church congregation to a tiny face in a crowd of five thousand...

There were challenges perhaps, but altogether...I had the time of my life.

As I sit in front of my dear laptop thinking through my first semester of college, countless different scenes flood my mind. I feel a desire to blog. Yet what exactly do I blog about? Should I blog about academics, about making friends, about church ministries, about new endeavors? Or should I blog about the feeling of coming home?

I search through my memory logs for any common theme to summarize my life in the past five months...yet I seem to find none. None, that is, except for one.

"It's Him, silly girl, it's Him," my mind knocks on my skull.

Who was it that sustained me through academic challenges? Who was it that led wonderful Christian friends to my side? Who was it that reminded me to treat every individual in the dorm, classroom, and cafeteria as my neighbor?

It's Him. It's all Him.

Who was my Protector as I traveled 5,000 miles alone? Who was my Motivator to give my best in my studies? Who was my Comfort whenever I felt so alone?

It's Him. It's all Him.

I don't have much to say other than that. Yes, there are numerous manifestations of His hand in my life...and I could rant on forever about them. Yet what was my life most fundamentally about these past months? Him, Him...it's all Him.

And that's why life's been wonderful.

So Long, Farewell, and See You Soon

In the past two months, I have perhaps said more goodbyes in my life than I had ever before. Whether it be family, friends, relatives, or the dear people in UECM...I've had to give more farewell greetings than I had foreseen.

After I left Manila almost four weeks ago, I thought the farewells were over. I thought that the goodbye hugs, the final conversations, and the lingering handshakes were over...but I guess not.

In fact, these four weeks have added even more goodbyes. Reunions with old friends, be it weeks or days, had to come to an end. Fascinating new friends have to be stored in memory for now. Breathtaking new places were visited for perhaps the only times in my life. And as we changed locations week after week, sentimentality surged for me. There have simply been too many goodbyes.

Yet in the midst of it all...one observation was impossible to neglect.

Farewells with dear people are always hard to say, but yet some goodbyes have been relatively easier, even if those were made towards people I love very much. The easier goodbyes...were with the people with whom I was certain to meet again very soon.

Be it hugs, handshakes, high-fives, warmgrasps, or intertwined fingers on the outside...inside, the emotions were most comforted when I could accompany my greetings with the words "See you."

For many people, it was "See you in December." For some others, it was "See you next year." For some, it was even "See you in Facebook." Yet whatever the form or time frame mentioned, those goodbyes were just somehow more dear, more hopeful, and less sad to say.

Saying goodbyes isn't exactly a happy thing to do, but I am thankful for the reflections it has evoked for me. For the same reason that some goodbyes are less depressing for me because I know I would meet the people again, the passing away of some loved ones are more hopeful than others because of a certainty of heavenly reunion.

Truly, God's gift of life everlasting is a gift of hope and love. I don't know what immediate application I can draw from all of this, but I guess I've just understood human life a little bit more...and appreciate His love a little bit more too.