Receiving Grace

I re-read The Parable of the Prodigal Son from Luke 15:11-32 today. I remember reading this parable 3 decades ago at Sunday School. At that time, I didn't understand why the father didn't get upset like his eldest son was when the prodigal son returned. Nobody explained it to me until I listened to Pastor Wiens' sermon, This Good Word: Grace (Episode 7).

I remember a time when I was trying my hardest to make a sale knocking on people's doors while on my Medical Walking Cast. Several patrons have pitied me while others scolded me for not staying home in getting better. Even though I made 1 sale that day, I was determined to finish with 4 more. Unfortunately, my foot had swollen so badly, I could not feel my toes anymore. I gave a big sigh and called my boss to call it in. After I made my report, I looked at the map and found myself having to walk back several miles to the starting point where I was dropped off. I prayed silently as I slowly limped towards the street. Just when my foot was about to give out, the lady I spoke to previously that afternoon, had come to pick up her mail from her mailbox. 

I excused myself for bothering her and asked if she could spare me some pain killers. She asked what had happened since I was fine since the morning I had last spoken to her. I explained to her plainly that my foot had swollen and the pain had then shot up to my thigh. She not only came back with aspirin, but with water and a foot binder. I was speechless. She apologized to me for the earlier encounter and that she felt bad at how her spouse had treated me. I told her not to worry about it. She insisted; I accepted gratefully. I don't know about you, but that boosted my spirits to finish my walk back to the meeting point.

I do not remember if I had thanked her wholesomely. I do remember thanking her for her kindness. 

In a sense to what I'm trying to say is, I never realized this is what Grace is like. Just a gesture of giving wholesomely for the sake of others' beatitude. I never realized I was short-coming myself in accepting Grace as it is. Pastor Wiens is right. I should say, "Thank you," more often when given it freely. I had been so used to astucious gestures throughout my adolescent life, it's difficult to recognize Grace on the spot.

I've given so much of my time, effort and resources not realizing I was exercising Grace myself. Grace is definitely a wonderful gift to give someone. It makes me wholesome.

Thank you, Mom 

Here's why I thank you:

1/27/2006 you wrote:

"My dear Lei Anne,

As your Mother, I accept you as you are: pimples, warts, eye bags and everything. I accept your husband and children and all the baggages that come with it. I accept your weaknesses. You are wonderfully made... all of us love you.

You said, you are happy where you are, so be it... and we will continue to pray for you. As you are a wife to Chris, the Lord will bless you, and we give you our blessings, too."

Thank you for only noticing my weaknesses and blemishes for God made them my strength and beauty. Thank you for allowing me to see where you stand in God's Grace. You will be blessed in God's kingdom, filled with comfort; where you will rejoice and be exceedingly glad (Matthew 5: 3, 4, 6; 12).

Thank you for inspiring me to work hard towards God's will and Jesus' teachings. I abound in truth and wisdom. Most of all, thank you for being my mother. 

Agape always, Lei Anne

Restoring my soul

I've been listening to Pastor Steve Wiens since April 16, 2014. Funny how that date is significant to the time when I made a decision to commit my life to Christ as a Born-Again Christian in 1995.

I don't remember how I stumbled upon his blog posts: The Actual Pastor, however I do remember a point in my life where I was struggling to belong to my family. It was 4 years after my father passed away. My sisters lamented at his absence while my mother wallowed in her devastation of loneliness. She had stated her grievances of how I have shamed the family. Her emotional torment depressed me so much.

I was looking for something to cheer me up that day. I figured I might as well Google something cheerful. It must have been the blog entitled, "The Difficulty of Just Being Yourself" that may have drawn me to follow Pastor Steve Wiens. Needless to say, his journal caught my attention.

He now has a podcast: This Good Word, which I finally had a chance to listen to recently. His sermons have genuine experiences as a Christian living in God's grace. I haven't heard such a message so forthright since my last association with a Christian church in Malaysia. His messages are solely based on reclaiming what’s holy about our humanity. 

I am so grateful to God for sending Pastor Steve Wiens in my life. I know I haven't been consistent in listening to and reading on Pastor Wiens' work in the last 3 years. I was so distracted then. Needless to say, I am truly dedicated in doing so now. Especially after attending StepUp Ministry's Life Skills Classes, I am becoming more focused on the things I should be doing.

Even after speaking to Chaplain Blake, who is sponsored and referred by the wonderful Veteran's Affairs, has made it clearly obvious that I was denying myself mental inner peace. You have to understand - I only have one mother. If my sisters are having a difficult time losing our father, how much more our mother? Once she's gone, I'm 'Scott-free'. That's the sad truth.

The only way for me to honor my mother is to remember the sensible things she taught me. Respect is as important as Love. This is why I adore the wonderful people and Earthly things, God has blessed me with. I am aware that the Earthly things get left behind when I'm gone. Yet, there is so much sentimental value from them. 

I love my parents. They provided me the basic needs. That's all well and good; but to have them treat me the way they did, how does a child learn to respect people of those nature? The very people whom, my parents warn me about: those who lie, cheat and steal? Yet here I stand: longing to be loved and accepted for who I am. It was only on my father's death bed, that he asked for forgiveness. What took him so long? His absence has not affected me as much because he had abandoned me when I needed him the most during my childhood.

What can I say about my mother? She has been through hell and far much worse. Her tenacity was what got me where I am today. Unfortunately, for 31 years trying so hard to appease to my mother's expectations, I have become the biggest failure. 

I'm tired. My daughter is almost a young independent adult. I don't need this stress. I'm done with this torment. I've done everything with all my strength, my time and energy to make my mother love me just as I am to no avail. To be cast down on my 37th birthday, "I wish you were never born" from a voicemail she had left on my phone which, inevitably broke my soul. I denied it. She couldn't have meant that. I listened to it several times before my beloved friend, Sophie; including my husband who, told me to delete the message.

I want to focus on my successes. I have achieved so much, you wouldn't even believe I have accomplished them at all. It is true: "Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.(Matthew 5:16)" Everyone I have met on the streets or public events, have given me the same compliment, "Your parents must have been proud of you." I almost always gave a weak smile. I have always felt this: "They never were proud of me." My parents have never uttered, "You've done well; we're proud of you," to me personally when I was under their care. I've always heard it from other people; including my sisters.

I am grateful that I am blessed with a very intelligent daughter, a very patient husband and a very forgiving co-parent. My life is blessed. That's as much honor I can make due for my mother. I have never sought out to narcotics, debauchery, or criminal activities. I don't have to prove to her that I am a good person by nature. I've taken all kinds of tests. They have all proven I'm chaotic. What artist do you know who isn't?

I am setting a good example to my daughter. It is natural to feel angry, sad and unhinged when bad things happen especially towards others who make you feel worthless. It took me a good 20 years to realize that I can make a choice not to associate with these kinds of people. The less time you spend with these people, the more open, well-rounded and worthy self-esteemed you become.

This is a hard choice I'm making. Accepting the fact that I will no longer want to associate with my own mother is like a slap in the face. As a Filipino Chinese, that's anomalous. I have chosen my words carefully. I am in conflict with myself.

The only way I know how to stay in focus is to look at my daughter. I know I did the right thing. She is the reason why I still live and breathe. As Pastor Steve Wiens always ends his sermon:

"We're Human and Holy;

We're Dust and Breath;

We're Limited and Limitless;

We're in this together"

In Pastor Wiens' sermon, "This Good Word: Run (Episode 6)" he stated that, "It takes courage to allow one's ego to atrophy," a quote from Dr. David Benner's book. I would have to agree. It takes a lot of courage to do the things in which is necessary to be free from pain, anxiousness and trauma. 

It's going to take me a lot of courage to face this conflict. The beauty of this is, I am no longer alone. God has provided the people I need in my life to help me through this painful journey. I know that will no longer be bounded by this burden. My soul will finally be restored.

Grieving during a loss of a relationship

Losing someone is difficult enough on its own merit. Losing a relationship has its own emotional toll especially for an empath like me. Nevertheless, the grieving process is more or less the same.

I've been denying the fact that my relationship with my mother is gone for good. It's been obvious since 2002 that this relationship will never exist in real-time. There's so much pain involved - to a point of detriment to my health and well-being. The truth hurts.

The turning point of my life is to focus on my daughter. I'm glad it has begun its repair. I'm going to keep it that way. I'd rather let my daughter see a strong, determined, independent woman she can rely on than letting her see me wallow in a downward spiral of despair and hopelessness.

My mother has always told me to lead by example. That's what I'm going to continue doing. I am grateful for all the things she taught me. I don't have to depend on anyone for anything else. I've always been taught to think for myself and solve my own problems. I am thankful for my friends to make me realize that it takes courage to ask for help when the problem is bigger than I can handle on my own. Trust me - I've been there alone by myself solving a problem far more than I could ever handle. I was broken. I didn't want to go anywhere or do anything. I just wanted to die then.

I don't think about committing suicide often. The thought comes up every once in a while. Just seeing my daughter gives me hope. Whenever I see her, I know that I did something good. She is the reason why I still live and breathe. I do hope when she's out on her own, that she will be as resilient as I am. I have told her often: "Mistakes happen. Learn from it. Don't do it again. If it happens again, do something else different so it never happens anymore."

I am grateful that my relationship with my daughter is now repaired. I just need to remind myself to maintain that relationship. The divorce hit her harder than it hit me. It took her a long time to recover from that break-up. She's grateful that both her biological parents are sensible and reasonable people. She adores her step-father. She wants to be just like him. God has been so good to my family. I give God all the glory for allowing such a wonderful kindred-ship between my family and my daughter's father.

The last thing I need is a mother to ruin all of it. I love her a lot - not because of the fact that she's my mother; it's because she needs it. She needed it long before I was ever born. Everything else that happened between us doesn't matter anymore. I have long forgiven those grievances. I just want her to know that my love for her is as true as it ever was when she held me in her hands. It hurts me a lot that our current relationship will never ever come to that.

All I ever wanted is for her to accept me for who I am. My only lament is that she needs to stop hurting me. That's not a lot to ask. Since it's been a difficult task for her to stop, I will make it stop. I haven't spoken (initiated a call) to her since June 2016. It's one thing to be upset with a child, but to tell a child: "I wish you have never been born," is damning not only oneself but the child as well.

That emotional turmoil took a heavy toll on me. It was then when I was diagnosed with clinical depression. Something I thought would never happen to me. I have limited my communications with her for a reason since then. As much as I want our relationship to reconcile, there's a part in me that doesn't want it anymore. I'm tired. I've carried this burden for far too long. I'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual.

I'm happy to hear she's doing well in her life. She has even made an honorable mention about me being a wonderful daughter I was on her Facebook post. If you're suspecting that I'm suspicious about the sentiment, it is well justified for a reason.

Needless to say, regardless of where my relationship with my mother will be in the future, I have to finally accept the fact that she will continue to treat me as if I never grew up at all.

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The Reluctant Artist

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Apr 3, 2017

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My Sincerest Apologies

I was reading old letters from all the correspondences I had with my mother. Our exchange of grievances between us has always been about my attitude. I have my reasons for being a skeptical anarchist.

The nuance of my expression has not changed. I am still the daughter yearning for respect, love and acceptance since the day I announced my commitment as a born-again Christian under God's presence before Him, Pastor Eddie Medina, my godfather Joe and his wife.

I am a survivor of domestic violence and abuse. This will always be my testimony on how God saved my life. The reason for living with a purpose.

I'm happy to have a mother. Being a mother for almost 15 years, I understand that there is not a single mother on this planet Earth who is far from being perfect. I iterated that in the letters I wrote to her. I wrote in the letters that I realized she did the best she could with the resources she had. I wrote to her letting her know that I understood her frustration. I had acknowledged that I was upset when we emigrated 3 months before my graduation. I was only left with my faith. She was not the reason why I wanted to leave home. Ever since our residency here in the U.S. eighteen years ago, it was evident I was not going to be anyone successful if I continued to stay at home. That letter was written 16 years ago.

I told her countless times I was sorry. I still love her like God loves me. Whether or not she believes me, I know what I have said is true. What was past can never be undone. It is not who I am. I am no longer there. I am an adult. I have responsibilities too. My daughter still needs me to care for her.

I would like to reconcile with my mother. I know I cannot change her. As for me, I just want her to love me. Nothing more. Nothing less.

With my deepest and sincerest apology, I am sorry for all the failures I have created for you, Mom. I just want you to be happy for me.

A state of resolute

I have been thinking a lot about my state of mind. Especially where I feel I need to improve my state of well-being.

I never liked the idea of wanting help. It was not how I was raised. Asking for help is a sign of weakness in Chinese culture. As a Filipino, there is no shame in asking for help unless you return the favor in kind.

I'm Filipino Chinese. I have experienced a lot of conflicts in my life. I was raised to keep my feelings to myself. So much so, I became violent, frustrated and indifferent.

On my 30th birthday, it was apparent that my attitude was affecting the ones I love the most. Even if my relationship ended bitterly with my daughter's father, we became friends again just like we were once 14 years ago. I learned he took the first step in forgiving me. It was only 3 years ago that I had the courage to write to him. I wrote how sorry I was for not being supportive enough. I also wrote how much I forgive him for hurting me and for being so impatient with my adjustment to the American way of life.

I thanked him personally for befriending my husband. My daughter feels lucky having 2 sets of parents. Even if her stepmother spoils her, I'm rest assured that my daughter is very grateful for the attention and love my husband and I give her.

I have accepted the fact that my father loved me as best he could. Even though he's no longer here on Earth, I'm still indifferent to his absence. I have been raised by my mother throughout my childhood and adolescent years. It wasn't until I left for college when my father began his effort in connecting with me. Even in the smallest amount of time we had alone together, he learned that I am the most considerate, compassionate and loving person he has ever known. It was the best compliment I had ever received in my entire life. I will never know why it took him so long to tell me that. I never got the chance to say thank you.

The difficult part of my life is making amends with my mother. Even after consoling her bereavement, she criticizes me for "airing the family laundry" to the public. I am a survivor of domestic violence and abuse. There is nothing honorable about it. I am not afraid of violent threats anymore. There isn't anything I can do to change the past.

Even after writing a letter on how much I understand the abuse she went through, I am still criticized for insinuating the assault. I was a child. I did not have the knowledge or the experience to convey opinions in resolving the marital issues my parents were having. I just wanted them to stop fighting. I forgave her for putting me in the middle of their marital arguments. Whether or not the arguments were valid or petty, no child should ever be made a witness in order to choose a side. It was stressful. Especially when you're trying to get good grades in school.

For the longest time, she has told me she loves me. Yet, her actions show me otherwise. I rarely ask for anything. When I do, I get shamed for it. I was not the jealous type until my youngest sister was born. I rarely complained. My father had traumatized me regarding that matter.

My relationship with my mother has always been one-sided. It is pointless to console her resentment towards me. It has come to a point where I can't even think straight. I had been overwhelmed by the anxiety so much since my childhood, that my depression caved into a health risk. I never would have thought I would be a clinically depressed person at this moment of my life. Yet, here I am doing the best I can to fight it.

Even after my long silence from her outburst during my birthday 3 years ago, I still get criticized. I have always been ridiculed about my looks, my weight, my body size, how I dress, how I speak, how I live my life and how I practice my faith. Now married with a child of divorce, the criticism is endless. Even if I tell my mother how much I love her, she will never believe me. All because I lied about farting in the study without saying "sorry." The irony of the situation is not the fact that I lied. It was the fact I pretended to be the perpetrator.

I have no leverage. I was a young mother of 21. I never regretted my marriage to my daughter's father. He taught me a lot of things. I related that sentiment with him and my husband. We all understood that neither one of us want to be together again in the same room for any length of time. My husband respects our mutual agreement.

I'm almost 40. I'm grateful for my husband for being patient with me. It's a long time coming. I am due for consoling my personal battle with my depression.

I'm not depressed because I can't win my mother's love for me. I'm depressed solely on the planet I live in. The society that allows people to spew hate, lies, greed and gratified dominance.

I cannot deny the existence of my suffering. It is not the destination of my future. I know I'm getting better because I am no longer afraid to be myself. I am whole. I have fewer conflicts with other people. Even when I criticize myself openly, strangers and acquainted friends alike compliment my mother for raising a wonderful daughter.

That's all what should matter. I am not my past. I never will be. That's all I can look forward to. With that in mind, I am rest assured that my daughter will follow the same journey of self-worth, self-esteem and compassion. I am not my mother. I never have and never will be.

The REAL Cost of Running a Kickstarter

The Reluctant Artist

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Feb 28, 2017

The REAL Cost of Running a Kickstarter

The power of encouragement

I have been thinking a lot about my purpose in life. A sense in which my purpose declares inspiration and encouragement.

I never learned how to do so until recently. I'm discovering every day that I am able to encourage others without imposing gratified expectations.

Let me elaborate: As any sales entrepreneur would know, your main goal is to set an expectation. Regardless of the product, your sales pitch needs to make sense to your client.

I have learned that apathy is the nuance of contemporary entrepreneurship. Your ability to be apathetic towards the client's objections is crucial to encourage a sale.

Whether either party realize the method of execution or not, the lack of concern regarding the sale is still prevalent. In other words, your assumption of the client wanting the product is very likely. In most cases, it's highly unlikely.

If the client is truly interested in the product, you need to be enthusiastic along with them. Being enthusiastic for them is some where in the lines of, "Hey, this product is cool. I know you're going to love it because it's going to enhance your life."

That's feeding more doubt in their mind rather than inspiring them. Let's address the doubts and concerns.

1. How would you know that your product will benefit their life? Not many people are willing to be open about their personal lives.

2. If you don't care about the sale, why are you still trying to advertise to the client? You are obviously contradicting yourself.

3. Even if the client has a good reason for not wanting the product, isn't it in your best interest and investment of your time to find another person? Let's face it: "No, means 'No'." It's not worth the stress.

With that being said, you should have a clear picture of what I've been trying to say. If not, let me give you another example: dating.

In this day and age, people using dating websites and applications as opposed to going into public places to meet others, have set a new standard.

The term "Catfish," is a foreign concept to me in the aspects of dating as much as the term "Philly fade," in the aspects of making a sale.

Apparently, a catfish is a person who guises themselves an incognito persona with the expectation of establishing a mutual relationship with another person of the opposite gender.

In my generation, we call them con artists. If you don't know what that means, I suggest you watch "Heartbreakers."

Trying to convince someone to like you to get what you want is one thing; but to pretend you have a rich lifestyle to make someone else like you, is a completely different story.

I'm not an expert on dating, but to have a mindset of a con artist, is just plain asinine. There is a lot of effort, money and time invested in being the most delusional person on the planet. The worst part of it, many good people get hung over the experience. At the end of the day what do con artists get out from it? Nothing. Everything they do is superficial. How shallow do you have to be?

As for the concept of the "Philly fade," in the context of making a sale, is apparently the moment when you pause in the middle of a sentence. It took me a good research to find out the same concept of its definition in a normal conversation. Just call it what it is! Redefining an existing word is not only aggravating, but pointless as well. It's basically the essence of providing an anacoenosis whereby a salesperson demonstrates a common interest to the client in a form of a question.

In all honesty, nobody wants to deal with con artists or liars. Regardless of their occupation, con artists are professional liars. Not every sales person is a con artist. Not everyone in the dating realm is a liar. Everyone has their own right to be upset with these types of people. Can you blame them? It is less stressful to humbly accept an objection ("Sorry,  I'm not interested.") than to react violently to a rejection ("Get out of my face."). You're welcome to leave alive and grateful when confronting a rejection. It's not worth losing a life over a petty argument.

So, how do you get to encourage people regardless of your own expectation?

Simple: Be sincere. Live by example. Relate a similar experience to the other person you're connecting with. Build a repertoire of becoming a genuine human being. Someone who can empathize with others' concerns. Active listening is key. Paraphrase the concern back to them. This allows them to acknowledge that you validate their concern. Your understanding of their livelihood, not only uplift their spirits, but opens up their hearts as well. Even if you didn't make a sale that day, or get a potential significant other to return your interests, you still feel good about yourself. You just made a friend.

You don't have to be the most social of all butterflies or the top salesperson in the room. Be yourself. Be honest, Be respectful, Be compassionate. Be a natural eccentric. The moment you show the world who you truly are, they're most likely to follow you, want to be with you and aspire to become like you.

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The Reluctant Artist

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Feb 18, 2017

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