Going 'Home'

I wrote the following entry in my journal just over a year ago, while in my homeland. Since I'm returning there again, I feel compelled to share these words....


I spent my remaining days on the farms of Taichung (central Taiwan). Being so far removed from this place, I had often forgotten about its existence and that this is the place where I come from. The farms is where my dad grew up and where his brothers, with their children and grandchildren, still all reside. The farms is where 17, soon to be 18, little and big kids call me gugu (aunt) and wonder why I step into their lives with such inconsistency. The farms is where my siblings and I would have been raised if it weren't for the one-in-a-million opportunity my dad was granted through a scholarship to study medicine in the city.

I can't quite say that I love this place, because I've never spent more than a few weeks here (unless I have, of which I don't recall). I've never been able to reconcile with this part of my life - how to incorporate it into my life story. And I'm not sure that I ever will. Each time that I visit the farms, I would anticipate it to be my last, since I probably would never come here alone.

I hope, though, to one day have personal relationships with my extended family and may be even share my faith with them. I wonder if they've ever heard about Jesus, but I'm afraid to ask, since their houses are laden with idols and incense burning for the ancestors. I have a hope, a vision if you will, that this whole side of my family would dedicate their lives to God and spread the gospel like wildfire to their neighbors. Who knows if this will come true, but I will devote myself to praying for it.

This evidently makes me think about marriage, particularly the man I'll marry. Do I need to marry someone who is fluent in Taiwanese so that we could be partners in this vision? As of now, I'm not quite fond of the idea of marrying a Taiwanese man (too tradiational for me). However, I will ask the Lord for a man who loves my family and encourages me to relate with them intentionally. He will even make traveling plans with me to attend awkward family reunions even if he feels out of place. Along with that, I will also request of the Lord that he be an advocate of justice for the poor, that he upholds a generous and simple lifestyle, that he be gentle in word and deed, that he affirms and believes in my beauty, that his love for God and love of people is phenomenol, that he would be a great father and faithful husband, and that he has a kick-ass mom.

Whew. I'm just gonna wait on the Lord to deliver the goods. Well, I must depart from this place now. I have a good feeling that I'll be back soon.

Tonight, I miss her intensely.

That sweet smile of hers, those happy feet that dance, and that pure voice with which she sings classic Khmer love songs.... she is the bundle of joy named Chenda.



I can't help but wonder if she remembers me the way I remember her. Probably not, but I wish that her caretakers at her new home would remind her of me. I wish they would tell her of the story of how an American girl met her one summer, fell in love with her, and wanted to adopt her. But because the girl didn't think she would make a good mother for her, instead, the girl did everything in her power to make sure she would find a new, loving home.

I know Chenda is happy now. She has friends and nannies that look after her. She is finally in a healthy environment with adequate food and nutrition, a safe and comfortable bed to sleep in, and the privilege of attending school. I am so thankful that this beautiful girl has the chance to start a new life and look forward to much-needed healing.

I'm going to go visit her one day in her homeland. Upon seeing her, I will swoop her up in my arms (hopefully to her delight and not fright). Until then, she and I will continue to play hula-hoop and pick flowers in the fields together in my memories.

Setting aside the embarrassment I feel from the fact that I created this blog as a result of having a crush on a boy, I hope to make use of this space to write freely and unabashedly.

There are some decisions I've made in recent months that make me cringe and/or doubt myself, but there is one decision I've felt right about since the very beginning. And that was the decision to go to France.

It all began with a simple desire to make a pilgrimage. I wanted to journey as early pilgirms would when they traveled to faraway lands in order to visit sacred sites. The pilgrims would travel for months on foot, buggy, or boat just to behold a holy landmark; they would be tried since travel was dangerous and costly. Nevertheless, they were persistent on making the journey because they knew they would discover God at their destination and along each step of the way.

Although nowadays traveling is much less dangerous and time-consuming, I intend on journeying with the same purpose - to discover God afresh in a sacred place and to depend on him for the uncertainties of the travel.

Going to Taize, France, has been my dream. The Taize community is an ecumenical and monastic community founded by Brother Roger in 1940. Today, hundreds and thousands of international visitors from every Christian tradition come together to experience prayer and silence to commune with God and one another.

What is amazing is that since the 1950's, Taize has become a place of pilgrimage for young adults all over the world. Young adults. French monastery. Silence and solitude. It is absolutely peculiar to me how those three phrases can actually be intimately intertwined. It is with great anticipation that I soon will be able to see this phenomenon for myself and partake of this movement.

Thanks to an elderly man at the Quaker service I attend who stood up and recited the words of Mahatma Ghandi, "There is no way to peace. Peace is the way", I now dub the journey:

The Pilgrimage of Peace.

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Deep within us all there is an amazing inner sanctuary of the soul, a holy place, a Divine Center, a speaking Voice, to which we may continuously return.

--Thomas Kelly