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.

To Be Forgotten

"被人遺忘是一件既自然又必然的事"

"To be forgotten is a thing most natural and certain."

The above words were said by Lynda Ye, the acclaimed lyricist of Taiwan's singing group Heavenly Melody. I heard her say it during an interview, and I have pondered upon the words ever since.

To be forgotten by people is firstly natural...people do not need to intentionally forget you. They just do. It is nothing offensive, because it is natural. And it is not surprising, because it is natural. As life moves on, people will find their own places and lifestyles...and some things or individuals simply will be forgotten...naturally...

Then to be forgotten is also certain...there is no escaping it. Some people might try hard to force the memory of themselves upon others. Some others might mourn the loss of attention. Yet it is all very matter-of-fact. It is only a matter of time...for to be forgotten is certain...

And as I stand at the threshhold of separation from all I have dearly loved in my life...as well as the people who love me most, these thoughts impact me heavily.

In the weeks leading up to my departure from the Philippines almost one week ago (for the sake of academic pursuit here in the States), people have showered me with much love. I was too touched for words as I discovered how God has blessed me with love way beyond I could ever deserve. From church deacons, to distant relatives, to childhood bosom friends, to faithful ministry partners, and everything in between...I have been blessed with love...and I reciprocate the affections as much as I could.

Yet in the midst of the pleas that I should return to the Philippines, and that I shouldn't forget the people back home...Miss Ye's words echo in my mind..."To be forgotten is a thing most natural and certain."

I should not count upon it...as much as I would like to think that my students would still adore me, that my best friends would still be intimate with me, that those who care for me would still be consistent in their affections when I return...I know it won't be the same.

As life goes on for everyone...to a particular degree...I will surely be forgotten...

So then, if that is the fact...what of it? How should I face this tragedy of natural and certain consequence? What should I do about being forgotten?

In her interview, Miss Ye made the quoted statement in reference to her departure from on-stage performance. Once she turned to serving backstage, she had to learn to be forgotten. Yet for her, she could still find joy in the midst of the process, because she knew she was serving God. And God knew all that was going on in her service and life...and even if people forget, God would be leased.

Her attitude gave me the courage to face this idea of losing the love formerly bestowed upon me.

It is the Lord Christ whom I serve. Even if people forget...I have not lost my direction in life.

Yes, students might grow independent of me, friends might continue life with their own pursuits, ministry roles might be filled with new people, admirers might easily change their fancies, and my family and church will continue to thrive in life without me...

It is all both humbling and comforting to know. Yes, life will move on without me, and I will eventually lose the significance that I had. Yet when it is Christ whom I am serving, then I don't need to worry.

I can still pray for people across the miles; God can answer.

I can still faithfully seek my Lord; He will listen.

I can still trust in His perfect plans for me...even when others have forgotten.

To be forgotten might seen a horrible thought at first...yet well...it is natural and certain. And when we have our hopes upon Him who is even more certain, then life will go on for everyone in His perfect time, in His perfect ways. All I need to do is to remember what really matters.

What matters is my spiritual walk with my Lord. What matters is that I continue to grow in contentment within, in knowledge of, and in obedience to my God.

Yes, I will be forgotten...yet what of it? Perhaps, as someone with so much self-awareness, to be forgotten is actually a very, very good thing.

Life will go on, and I must find my place in it. Yet no matter what particulars that "place" might involve...I already have my most fundamental identity and duty as a child of God. That is what matters, and well...that's all that needs to be remembered. Everything else...might as well be forgotten...