You see, I was never a truth seeker. As a kid, I read the Bible beginning to end just for fun. I really only liked the Old Testament because of all the fights and the physical manifestation of God’s power on Earth. I hated the New Testament because it was all the same and so I would stop after reading the second chapter! Honestly, hate is the wrong word rather it was because I never understood the New Testament. As a kid, I would go to church with my older brother, HY. Hua Yong started his formal life with God through the University. I believe God isn’t supposed to be formal, in fact, it’s supposed to be informal and the relationship you have with him is to be like best friends. Not like professional business partners.
My Existence :
I didn’t realize that and sadly that was the extent of my relationship with God. God was boring and I was a kid who needed my curiosity satisfied! I never fully understood what all this Mumbai jumbo was beside the fact that I understood my life, and therefore my existence was solely due to my parents’ willingness to adopt me. Had no idea why. I was always ugly and homely looking and adoption would not be the first thing you thought of when you looked at me! I was an orphan from China and by Earthly laws and probability, I should be dead.
You must realize though that God’s works are not bound by probability. The fact remained that I wasn’t dead and that made me conscious of my blessing. This is important because this sense of gratitude is what kept me tied to Him. This sense of realization that I was an error in the universe and by all means, I should be DEAD is what kept me away from facing the cold hard truth. Death was the truth that I kept avoiding at all costs.
My oldest brother died when he was 34. I was 8 and he was years ahead of us in ages, but he was family and he was the most curious of my siblings. I would say my younger self-loved his big TV and van. He suffered from a degenerative disease that caused him to be handicapped. He had a cool wheelchair and special equipment on his van and I just thought it was the coolest idea. I have vivid memories of bonding and the day that we went to court to make it official was pretty satisfying.
Before I could deal with my brothers’ death, my grandpa died but his death wasn’t as impactful but it still was death. He was the type of guy who really didn’t talk much to us younger kids but I loved his house. There were many good memories of Christmas and playing with my cousins in his basement and riding bikes out in the garage and circular driveway. His basement was messy and there was just so much stuff! I thank him for my curiosity. As a kid, my parents told me he was an inventor. All the cool stuff he had down there engraved in me a sense of discovery that never came into fruition. Every time I went down in the basement, it was like discovering what discovery was (that were put together with electrical tape).
Loneliness from Death :
So being that everything that made me, myself was direct because of them, I did not find it pleasant to go through their deaths. I brushed death aside because it was painful to even think about. The most pivotal moment occurred in the hospital when my brother was in his last moments and we passed an altar. My mom told me to go pray, but I was so filled with rage and hate. I just kind of stood there thinking, I hate death. I don’t understand death. Why am I alive, but the strongest man with the biggest heart had to be dead? How can a good God do that?
I never understood why my mind was more developed when most kids minds were still developing. During those times, I really wish I was like other kids. We were a band of misfits thrown aside and set in the expired and faulty section of the supermarket. And my parents were the ones who stopped to look at us and buy us. The sad part was that now one of us was going bad because we were expired and faulty and I was angry. His name was Mitch. From Michael came Mitch. Mitch means “gifts from God”. He truly was too many more.
Avoidance From Death :
My grandpa died three years later after God welcomed Mitch in his arms. I don’t think grandpa even remembered all of our names (one year we each had numbers written on our coat as our hollowed costume) but we sure do remember his. It was a bitter funeral and I was more focused on my father than myself. I saw the sorrow in his eyes and I did not understand why. Death was still confusing to me.
He sang in front everyone which must have been hard for him. The song he sang I’m pretty sure was What A Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong. I’m pretty sure because I remember we got to a point in the song “seeing friends shaking hands” where I broke down. I didn’t understand any of the feelings as a child and so it even confused me even more. I was afraid and I pushed Death aside because it hurted. It was my survival instinct to think about everything BUT death.
This instinct carried on through the highs and lows of life. Then I arrived on December 22, 2017 where an experience shooked my world like never before. I wasn’t expecting for what was to happen that night when I got home. I did not expect to see my dead grandpa before my eyes.
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.”