PHO101

This is my story.

I was born on June 13th, 1989 into the home of Lester and Vicky Ng. I think I should say something rather important right now, so that you can have a better idea of what kind of environment I grew up in. Anyway, my father is a Pastor and my mother has worked part-time for a outreach organization and her work has been featured in quite a few magazines, journals, whatever. So that said, back to the interesting stuff (namely me).

I had a relatively happy childhood. Of course there were the times when I got into fights with my brother (born two and a half years after me), drowned myself in tears after declaring I would never go to school, and did something stupid and got punished for it. Frankly though, if I were to characterize my childhood with one word, I think I would choose sheltered. My childhood memories are built around my family. Every single memory contained my family in it, around it, and at the center of it. I know what you're thinking. You are thinking that that is perfectly normal "I mean geez pho you were pretty young, so of course you were going to have a lot of memories of your family. They do take care of you, you know?". Yes, I do know, but I left something out. My childhood memories often do not include spending time with people other than my family. Those childhood friends you might have had. The ones that frequented your neighborhood or went to your church or your school. They might have been a part of your life, but not mine. Alright! I admit I'm exaggerating a little bit. I had some childhood friends from the church I went to at the time (Livingstone Alliance Church), but of those friendships were not lasting (although I am trying to get in touch with some of those people again). They were but fleeting wisps of interaction compared to the mountain of time I spent with my family. Disneyland twice. Seaworld. The Zoo. Universal Studios. The beach. The mountains. Camping. Olympia, Yellowstone, Grand Canyon, Road trip to Canada (it took two weeks and every single one of those days except one was spent camping under the stars). Missions trip to Vietnam. Likewise to Belize. Visiting relatives in Hong Kong. The same in Malaysia. Countless church retreats. College campuses (mainly Cal State Long Beach). I think you get the idea. I spent a LOT of time with my family. So why sheltered? Why not isolated or lonely or _______? Because I loved it. I enjoyed spending time with them. Pokething (my pet name for my brother) was annoying for sure, but he was my playmate. The only playmate I had, and for the most part the only one I felt comfortable around with. I remember for the longest time I sincerely believed, he was the only one who could understand me. Not because I refused to give others a chance, but because it was really, actually true.

True, until high school and the rebellion years hit. I don't know how it happened, but it did. Somehow, sometime, during high school, especially during the summer of my freshman to sophomore year, I began to value friendship with my peers over my family. Pokething, who had been my buddy and confidante before, became the stereotypical, very annoying, "get the heck out of my life and away from my friends and go and make your own!" younger brother. I also began to close myself off to my parents, thinking "you'll never understand me, so stop trying, and while you're at it stop judging my friends!" I poured all my affections, kindness, and money on my friends. My emotions were truly and intricately tied to being able to spend time with them. Being refused such requests by my parents would send me into a silent and seething rage. It did not help that I couldn't help but seem to notice all the hypocrisy and apparent contradictions in the way my parents treated others (in the role of Pastor and Pastor's wife) and in the way they treated me (in the role of a father and mother). I always wondered why my parents didn't act in such and such a way if they were supposed to be such godly people and in the presence of others, as I watched my parents take on their roles in the play, putting on masks perfected by a delicate hand with years of practice and experience, I would frequently think "if only you knew, I only you knew how they act when you aren't here." Rage grew in my heart, a small but burning cactus, fed in fertile soil of resentment. Resentment from having to constantly change churches (almost every Sunday). Resentment from leaving the only church I had loved and felt comfortable in (Livingstone Alliance Church). Resentment from feeling as if my life was constantly under scrutiny (after they found out I was a PK) by my peers at whatever church we happened to be attending, other adults, my parents' friends, and etc. Resentment from the pressure of having to live up to some ridiculous perfect image of a good Christian girl/daughter. Resentment from having my every spiritual achievement attributed to being a PK. Resentment from never knowing enough to defend my faith. "That's weird pho. That last one is different." You're right it is. It's different because I still held on to my faith. I had a personal relationship with God I thought I was a good kid, better than most, smarter than most, didn't study much and so I truly honestly believed that the only reason I passed most of my classes was because I begged him to give me a 'A'. "Geez, pho you're weird. How can you have both the plant of faith and the cactus of rage growing side my side each other?" Because they're weren't. Rage was choking Faith…only I didn't realize it then. I didn't realize anything then. I didn’t realize how much my friends had hurt me or how much my experiences in high school would affect me later on. I didn't realize how much 'drama' I had had in those days. Friendships falling apart. Boyfriends getting in the way. Being totally and utterly taken for granted. I graduated on good terms with all those people, those friends, but our relationships would never be the same. Never be as good as they once were. Did I regret it? No, not really. I think I was more relieved. I wanted in some ways to stick with them because they were familiar. They were my comfort zone. Yet, I wanted to get away at the same time. I was ready to get away.

That was my life, that was my mindset, that was then…and this is now.

So what changed? Care to guess. No? That's alright I'll tell you. The answer is everything. Everything changed. "Now, now pho that's a little over the top, tis not the time for practicing the use of hyperboles. Testimonies are suppose to be real, actual truth that people can identify with you know?" Yeah, well I'm not lying. I came to UCLA with few expectations. I thought that Christians would be hard to find. I thought that unbelievers would be the main source of challenge to my faith. I thought that college classes would be hard, but doable. I thought that I would never switch majors; I was set on Computer Science and that was that. Never could I have been more wrong. First off, Christians are everywhere. One can only try to estimate the number of Christians on campus by noticing the sheer number of Christian fellowships available to the seeking heart. Second, any part that unbelievers have played in challenging my faith, if they have even played a part, is minor. The main challenge to my faith came from fellow brothers and sisters in Christ. Not that they knowingly played such a role; but their questions, their thoughts, our friendship…everything somehow ended up pushing me towards growth, towards Christ…and of course there was classes. Those, wonderful, beautiful, lovely, interesting, anything but lovable classes. I never realized how much my life, my actions, affected others. How much I could disappoint people, how much I meant to others. Ultimately I knew, I knew I was being tested. Through the tears, through the pain, I was able to laugh at the irony of it. But, I never realized just how much it would actually change me. How much it would cause me to reach out to others to realize it was alright to rely on them, that it was alright to not to pretend anymore. Deciding to switch majors, deciding to embrace my past, that label, that label that used to disgust me so, "PK". I found myself all the sudden willing to rely completely on Him. Realizing that He was all I had, and ultimately the only one who I could truly completely and utterly depend on. I surrendered my all to him and suddenly…suddenly I knew. It would be fine. It really really would be fine. So smile . Smile because He has brought me such joy, has blessed me so much, and has brought me to you. =D