True Worship

Today, when I sang songs of worship, it all became so real and clear to me.

I haven't had such powerful worship in a long long time.

God, only you can fill my empty cup.

Raw

God, this is so hard. Please help me. Sustain me. Renew me.

There's a peace I've come to know. Though my heart and flesh may fail. There's an anchor for my soul. I can say "It is well"

There's a peace I've come to know
Though my heart and flesh may fail
There's an anchor for my soul
I can say "It is well"


Jesus has overcome
And the grave is overwhelmed
The victory is won
He is risen from the dead


[Chorus:]
And I will rise when He calls my name
No more sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on eagles' wings
Before my God fall on my knees
And rise
I will rise


There's a day that's drawing near
When this darkness breaks to light
And the shadows disappear
And my faith shall be my eyes


Jesus has overcome
And the grave is overwhelmed
The victory is won
He is risen from the dead


[Chorus:]
And I will rise when He calls my name
No more sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on eagles' wings
Before my God fall on my knees
And rise
I will rise


And I hear the voice of many angels sing,
"Worthy is the Lamb"
And I hear the cry of every longing heart,
"Worthy is the Lamb"
[x2]


[Chorus:]
And I will rise when He calls my name
No more sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on eagles' wings
Before my God fall on my knees
And rise
I will rise


(Chris Tomlin - I Will Rise)

Grass

Do you ever sit on the grass on a nice sunny day? Doesn't it feel nice and comfortable? A cushion for your butt :-), strong in number, and a sign of life.

I miss the grass.

When I was young, every time I sat on grass, I would pick up a chunk with my hand, hold it up in the air, and when a nice breeze came by, I would let it go and watch the grass gracefully fly away. 

I guess as you get older, you have to let chunks of grass go and allow new grass to grow.

I'm learning not to take things for granted. Everything is fleeting and things fall apart, but one thing that will never change is God.

So God, I set my eyes on you, the everlasting God.

"All the people are like grass,

and all their glory is like the flowers of the field;

the grass withers and the flowers fall,

but the word of the Lord endures forever" 

- 1 Peter 1:24-25

Superman

Since July, I have been plagued with physical ailments. In fact, so much has gone wrong with my body, that I'm convinced God is trying to teach me something. 

I remember when I was in the hospital, a friend rushed in to make sure I was okay. While I was semi-aware of my surroundings, she started yelling at me - something along the lines of, "You're not superman so stop trying because you need to take care of yourself!" 

I think I kind of laughed at that. At the moment, I knew exactly what I was, and I wasn't Superman. I was merely a human being, who was totally dependent on anything to get him back to normal. 

I would love to be superman. I would love to go and save lives, bring back loved ones from the dead, complete marathons in super speed, have ultimate strength, and have a normal job while doing all of that. But my friend is right - I am not Superman. In fact, I am not even a normal healthy young adult at the moment. I'm below that, physically weak, mentally exhausted, emotionally confused. 

The past 6 months have been hard. I don't know what's wrong with me. At times, during my deepest darkest hours, I find myself desperately going to the Lord and praying. Please God, please restore me, rejuvenate me, give me my health back. I am so weak, and I am wholeheartedly reliant on you - God, only you can help me. 

I've been praying for deliverance for a while now, and I always go back to my favorite verse in the Bible, when the apostle Paul has thorns in his body and he begs God to take them away, but God doesn't. Instead, He says to Paul,  " My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. "  (2 Corinthians 12:9). 

God's power is made perfect in weakness. In my weakness, I am realizing the full power of God. I am nothing, but my God is everything. I am not Superman, but God is my Superman. Superman doesn't save those who are doing well, he saves the weak and the helpless. 

Through my suffering, God is teaching me about His power while humbling me. I eagerly await the day God restores me, but until then, Lord, I submit to you because you are refining me.


And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. - 1 Peter 5:10

9/11 - Reflections of a new New Yorker

10 years ago, in Las Vegas, I was on my way to middle school when I first heard news about a plane hitting one of the World Trade Center towers. My dad always had NPR on the radio, and we heard that a plane had hit the building. I remember thinking, along with many others, wow... what a horrible accident. There must be a faulty radar. During the same car ride, we heard about the second plane hitting the second tower. Now, this is when most of the country probably knew that we were under attack, but me? Wow...they need to fix that radar really soon. You see, at that moment, I had thought that America was invincible.

 We went on with class throughout much of the day. During PE, I learned that one of the towers had collapsed, but only by word. There were rumors that the news of the collapse were rumors. Everything just felt like a story. It was during my last class, when we turned on the TV, when I could somewhat understand the significance of this attack. The Pentagon has been attacked too? What's the Pentagon? And a plane crashed in Pennsylvania? We are really under attack?

 My teacher said, "This will change the history of America."

 It did change America, and it changed how I viewed this country. It was a breaking point of innocence and naivety, but the story of 9/11 was just a chapter in a history book.

 Little did I know that I would end up in the very city that experienced this attack.

 People here remember 9/11 in very different ways. As we sat at a dinner table one evening, a conversation about 9/11 brought back memories for several people. One friend had been in school, right across from the World Trade Center when it was attacked. She had seen her classmates cry and lose parents in that attack. Another did not have a very pleasant look on her face. You could tell that she was feeling some pain. After a few quiet minutes, we learned that she had lost a friend in the attack. In the office on Friday, a rather quiet coworker, who happens to be Mayor Giuliani's cousin, sent out a very long, but passionate reflection on 9/11. I guess it hit him deeply.

 I could see it in the streets too. As I got off of my subway stop in Times Square, I ran into a random search station. I saw police cars lined up all across 42nd street with sirens on, and officers with vigilant eyes. I wouldn't say that we are scared; New Yorkers hate to say that they are scared. We are not scared, but we are very aware that we are not invincible.

 I'm sitting here at work, and I should be working, but I find the significance of this day too powerful to think straight. Instead of making slides and finishing this project, I'm listening to the names being read at the 9/11 Commemoration and thinking about the people who've lost their lives.

 I'm beginning to feel like a New Yorker.
 God Bless America :-)

Hurricane Irene meets Maggie May

I'm sitting around the living room with my much older roommate and his guests. Amongst this circle, there is a gay black jazz vocalist, a black artist, a British investment banker, a German bar owner and his girlfriend, and then me, a young Korean American consultant.

We're nothing alike, but we sit in the circle drinking wine and waiting for Hurricane Irene to pass. We talk about race, black history, my identity as an Asian American, multiracial relationships, drugs, sex, and rock n' roll. I can't relate to any of them, but I sit and listen because their stories are quite interesting and...well, there is nothing else to do. Every now and then, when there is a lull, we look out the window and go, "wow, look at the river forming outside."

By 2AM, we all develop respect for one another. I've heard about their life stories, their drug use, and the injustices that they faced due to their race. The conversation gets a little uncomfortable when they talk about the importance of drug use and having sex with tons of women. The artist tells me that I need to do the same and that life is about fun. I am a bit disgusted inside, but I listen with a smile, gently nodding, not in agreement, but in acceptance of him. The jazz vocalist senses my discomfort and the conversation turns to music...

Unlike me, they can talk all night about music. I realize that music from the old days has a lot more meaning and history behind it, because all of them listen to a song with intensity and nodd as if it resonates with their life. As we continue to converse, Rod Stewart's Maggie May comes on and the room falls silent.

"Now THIS is a lovely song. It is a good good song. Well written," says the Artist.
Everyone sings along...

"You led me away from home
Just to save you from being alone
You stole my heart and that's what really hurts..."

I think it sounds like any other song with typical lyrics, so I ask the artist about its meaning, hoping to feel what they feel.

"It's about a young guy who falls in love with an older woman. He's heartbroken because she's just using him. He finally realizes and plans on leaving her."

I look at him and smile blankly...
But the whole crowd is into the song, eyes closed, and reminiscing.

So I sit and close my eyes too.
I hear Irene pounding on the window, but soon enough, she becomes irrelevant.

Maggie May, you stole the night.