tuesday?

This is a post I've thought of posting for a long time.

It's going to be quite long, so I've warned you about the length, yeah?

You may not have known me close enough to know how I became a Christian, so here's the story.

I was not born into a Christian family, and none of my immediate family members were Christians. We were staunch Buddhists. When I was born, my paternal grandmother brought me to the temple and dedicated me to the Goddess of Mercy. When I was a baby, a black enamel bangle was placed on my wrist. In case you do not know, these bangles are put on babies until they grow up to be children. In layman's terms, this bangle cannot come off or be taken off. It has to be cut off.

Every year without fail we would do everything that was for us to do-burn silver paper, jossticks, burn a paper house for the...well, I don't really know why we burnt paper houses on Chinese New Year. But we burnt that anyway. We placed red paper on fruits. Lighted up red candles. Slept after midnight on the eve of CNY.

All the typical traditions that were for us to do we did, even the fire cracker-the long winding red one.

My paternal grandmother strongly encouraged my sister and I to go to Dharma classes every Sunday morning. This is what you do at Dharma class: chant, sing, chant, learn, read, eat. Quite honestly, at my age, I did not like attending Dharma classes, and the only reason I went was because of my grandmother and 'cos Iona was there too. I mean, Sunday morning.

At eight, all I wanted to do was sit in front of the TV and rot watching Sailormoon on TV2.

Though I wasn't a devoted Buddhist, I was still devastated when I learnt that my cousins became Christians. I vowed never ever to do that-to turn away from the traditions and cultures of where I came from and to turn to something so foreign, so alien and so different.

It was apparent when they became Christians-they wouldn't hold the jossticks at our grandmother's funeral but just placed their hands together. I was sad that they became different people, different from who my parents, aunts, uncles and other cousins were.

So you can imagine how much I disliked Sunday school when an older cousin invited my sister and I to attend it.
We only went there for two weeks.

I did not like the hall, I did not like the children who were there, who had already known each other probably since birth, and I did not like the fact that all of them had Bibles in their hands. I just disliked the atmosphere of being at a new place and assuming that they didn't want us there.

Ah, but time changes many things. Four years later I was back at the same place attending a pre-rally event and I was loving every minute of it.

My sister seemed to like Sunday School though. She said she'd be back the next week. Goodness, I was so devastated when I heard she'd go back to Sunday School the next week even though I told her I wouldn't.

Then I tried to persuade her out of going back by saying she'd have to change her religion and will not be allowed sleep with the Buddhist chants book under her pillow anymore. (She used to read that small pink book before she slept) Of course I succeeded and we didn't hear anymore of Christian events until 2004.

Along the way, another cousin became a Christian after she had a dream about our grandmother. Through my eyes it was promoting disunity in the family.

In 2004, my mom's friend invited us to watch Passion of the Christ at a church. Honestly I did not want to go because I know there would be some singing before they screened the movie, but went anyway. It was okay. In Christmas 2005, we were invited to a Christmas celebration in a KL church. It was okay too, but at the back of my mind, I thought, why are there so many people here on a Sunday morning?

March 2006-Be That Girl conference. I know it is not just a coincidence that I went there alone. This conference changed my life-or rather, God did. If you think I am lying through my teeth here, shucks to you man, 'cos this is nothing but the plain truth.



It was terribly lonely for me there-the girls sung the Christian songs again, and there were the Bibles (again) and there was preaching (again). Only this time I decided to pay full attention to what the preacher might say because SOMETHING must have prompted this fully pregnant woman to fly all the way from Australia to Malaysia.

Something happened during those two days. On the second day of the conference, I was thrown into a youth service at a church and was asked to pray for someone while the other person prayed for me. I wasn't a believer. I didn't know how to pray.

But I said some stuff anyway. Melissa, if you are reading this, I thank God that you prayed for me that day.

Something happened at BTG conference and I know it was for the best of everything because here I am now, typing this out while realizing that what happened to me, you might not fully understand.

How drastic are the changes God has brought into my life?

I prayed for my family to be saved.

I went to church almost every Saturday even though most of the people there were strangers because I wanted to see more of God.

In August, when Jonathan asked if I'd like to join a camp in Pahang, I said yes without thinking and persuaded Samantha in USJ to follow me as no one else in Klang would. There she bumped into her long-lost friend, Sarah. At the camp, she was baptised in the Holy Spirit-though she comes from a Catholic family, she never had an encounter with God.

In December that year, she joined Grace Youth Camp and witnessed the water baptism of Sarah and I. Every now and then she would remind me that we are living by the grace of a merciful and loving God.

In the 70s, my dad went to NUBE Training Center in Port Dickson where you could only go to if you were a bank employee or were friends with one. Last year, I followed a busful of teenagers to the very same place for Meta Camp 2007 and had another encounter with the very same God who picked me up at the conference.

The camp was the first event held at NUBE Training Center for non-bank union employees.

My parents attend church every Sunday without fail. My mother goes for cell and prayer meetings at church.

In the past, if you told me I was going to celebrate my birthday with Christians at an Easter party, I would have never believed you. I would have thought you had spoken to the wrong person.

So many more changes have I encountered these past few years that are so public that I would not blog about-it would only be self-centered.

It is more than something that Jesus, the saviour of my life, has chosen this stubborn person to save. It shows that the scars on His hands are true. It shows that everything in life happens in a manner for a reason.

Every morning I wake up and thank Him that I have another day to live. That I did not sleep last night and slept forever.

Before that happens to me, I would like to say that whatever good or bad things that has happened to you in your life was and is happening for a good reason, and YES there is a living God who looks after everyone.

Look at the big picture!



A big thank you to Jesus Christ. You rock my life.