something beautiful

2011-11-24T20:52:00.000-08:00

At 2 AM while I was supposed to be doing homework, listening to this song and watching this video gave a sudden urge to go outside and watch the sunrise...

And so the next weekend, this is where I find myself:
(it's not actually a sunrise but the Bay Area does have pretty awesome sunsets)

It's amazing to think that the splendors here on Earth are just a shadow of splendors to come.

Phil Wickham - You're Beautiful

I see Your face in every sunrise
The colors of the morning are inside Your eyes
The world awakens in the light of the day
I look up to the sky and say
You’re beautiful

I see Your power in the moonlit night
Where planets are in motion and galaxies are bright
We are amazed in the light of the stars
It’s all proclaiming who You are
You’re beautiful, You're beautiful

I see you there hanging on a tree
You bled and then you died and then you rose again for me
Now you are sitting on Your heavenly throne
Soon we will be coming home
You’re beautiful, you're beautiful

When we arrive at eternity’s shore
Where death is just a memory and tears are no more
We’ll enter in as the wedding bells ring
Your bride will come together and we’ll sing
You’re beautiful, You're beautiful, You're beautiful

Life Lesson

2011-07-20T13:58:00.000-07:00

Over my entire life it seems, I have ever so slowly been learning just one thing - Not my will, but Thy will be done. "Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above", but even good and beautiful things become an idol when we desire these gifts more than the Gift-giver. Even when God take away or withhold good gifts, I will give thanks for this is how He draw me closer to Him. As David prays, "O God, You are my God; I shall seek You earnestly; My soul thirsts for You, my flesh yearns for You." So please Lord, strip me of my idols, take away my sins, purge away any choking thorns, strip me until I am bare... until I am Yours and Yours alone.

I have built a city here
Half with pride and half with fear
Just wanted a safer place to hide
I don’t want to be safe tonight

I need You like a hurricane
Thunder crashing, wind and rain
To tear my walls down
I’m only Yours now
I need you like a burning flame
A wild fire untamed
To burn these walls down
I’m only Yours now
I’m only Yours now

I am Yours and You are mine
You know far better than I
And if destruction’s what I need
Then I’ll receive it Lord from Thee
Yes, I’ll receive it Lord from Thee

And it’s Your eye in the storm
Watching over me
And it’s Your eye in the storm
Wanting only good for me
And if You are the war
Let me be the casualty
‘Til I’m Yours alone
I am only Yours
I am Yours alone, Lord

Hurricane - Jimmy Needham

Berkeley...

2011-06-28T00:42:00.000-07:00


(from the female restroom in Evans Hall)

Echoes of St. Augustine

2011-05-19T01:43:00.000-07:00

(photo from Anhui, China)

St. Augustine spelling out my own thoughts in his Confessions over 1600 years ago...

"These things I did not at that time know, and I was in love with those lower beauties. I was sinking into the very depths and I said to my friends: 'Do we love anything save what is beautiful? What then is beautiful? and what is beauty? What is it that allures us and delights us in the things we love? Unless there were grace and beauty in them they could not possibly draw us to them.'"

"'...He made this world and is not far from it.' For He did not simply make it and leave it: but as it is from Him so it is in Him. See where He is, wherever there is a savour of truth: he is in the most secret place of the heart, yet the heart has strayed from Him... Where are you going, to what bleak places? Where are you going? The good that you love is from Him: and insofar as it is likewise for Him it is good and lovely... You seek happiness of life in the land of death, and it is not there. For how shall there be happiness of life where there is no life? But our Life came down to this earth and took away our death, slew death with the abundance of His own life...For He did not delay but rushed on, calling to us by His death, life, descent, and ascension to return to Him. And He withdrew from our eyes, that we might return to our own heart and find Him..."

I'm always intrigued when people from the past seem to write what's on my mind. It's as if my thoughts were being echoed backwards through time. It reminds that my thoughts are nowhere near as original or as "my own" as I thought them to be. Still it reminds me at least that I'm not going crazy--a good thing for someone who thinks way too much! (For more detail of how this passage relate to my own thoughts, go to this post)

I need Thee every hour

2011-05-09T15:18:00.000-07:00

Can't get enough of this CD while studying for finals:

At the height of my workload stress, I tend to have mini mental breakdowns that eventually leads to existential crises. I'm not kidding. It goes something like this: Gosh, finals are so pointless, I don't care about this anyway. In a course of a lifetime, what does it matter? Why am I even doing this? What should I be doing? What am I doing with my life? I wish I had more time to figure it out but now I have to study for my stupid finals... And which this leads me to just sit there or blog when I should be studying, like right now. Great huh? The only thing that keeps myself sane is being reminded of the amazing truths of God. I've learned through the years that as a very introspective person, my mind is often my worst enemy. Better not to listen to myself, but be reminded by the Word of Truth and His promises. That's why I love this CD so much. Classic hymns, uplifting verses grounded on Biblical truth, arranged in a nice contemporary style... with simple yet powerful reminders such as this:

I need Thee every hour, most gracious Lord;
No tender voice like Thine can peace afford.

I need Thee, O I need Thee;
Every hour I need Thee;
O bless me now, my Savior,
I come to Thee.

I need Thee every hour, stay Thou nearby;
Temptations lose their power when Thou art nigh.

I need Thee every hour, in joy or pain;
Come quickly and abide, or life is in vain.

I need Thee every hour; teach me Thy will;
And Thy rich promises in me fulfill.

I need Thee every hour, most Holy One;
O make me Thine indeed, Thou blessèd Son.

My Declaration of Dependence

2011-04-14T18:50:00.000-07:00

My life motto has always been: "suck it up."

But at what point does "sucking it up" actually buries the pain so deeply and ignores it so that all is left is a hardened and apathetic heart void of emotion?

There is also a sense of prideful self-sufficiency in sucking it up. I am learning that I can't do it anymore. I must become weak in order for Him to say, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

sometimes, I wish I can just make everyone look up

2011-02-12T16:42:00.000-08:00

The night sky has been amazingly clear this past week,
And if everyone looked up once in awhile, he/she might just find wonders on display...

while you're at it, take a picture.

2011-01-30T00:54:00.000-08:00

One good thing about snowboarding is that even while you're just sitting there on your butt, seriously considering giving up the whole venture of snowboarding altogether after falling for the bajillionth time... at least there is a magnificent view and fresh snow :)

Not-So-White Christmas

2010-12-20T23:16:00.000-08:00

Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. I've always loved this time of the year as pretty lights go up on houses, Christmas music plays on the radio, and people wear festive colors and exchange gifts and baked goodies to each other. On the whole, Christmas sort of looked like this in my mind:

However, this year, I found myself not feeling any of this at all. I turn on the radio, and the music just feels overly festive and annoying. And I'm thinking, come on, there is NO such thing as a White Christmas in southern California. Who's ever ridden on a one-horse open sleigh anyway? How do we even know it's supposed to be fun and not freezing cold?! And what the heck are chestnuts anyway?? Christmas is just a dumb holiday that nostalgically cherishes traditions of the Eastern part of the US that have no connections with me whatsoever, and today it's just turned into a big materialistic day of gift-giving.

I know, I know, I need to watch Elf again. "The best way to spread Christmas Cheer, is singing loud for all to hear," says this guy:

Instead, I was reminded on Sunday service that Christmas is NOT about any of this at all. Of course I knew all this already. Christmas is about Jesus's birth. But in my head I still thought, what's so great about his birth anyway? His birth was not glamorous and pretty as nativity scenes often portray it; in reality Jesus was born in a smelly, dark shed for animals, because people at the inn wouldn't even make room for a pregnant woman. And we're pretty sure he was not born on December 25. Besides Christ's death is more important and central than his humble birth anyway, so what's the big deal then about Christmas? I'd forgotten that the birth of the promised Messiah is an amazing sign of God's faithfulness. Christ's birth fulfills all the promises God had made to Israel in these passages and more in the Old Testament-- Gen 22:18, Gen 21:12, Gen 49:10, Isa 11:1, Jer 23:5, Isa 7:14, Micah 5:2, Jer 31:15, and more! And this amazing promise is that God loves us so much that he sent a Savior would come take our away our sins. What God has promised, he will fulfill. What are some promises that he has for believers?

And I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. Philippians 1:6

And this is the promise that He made to us-- eternal life. 1 John 2:25

The birth of Christ fulfills God's great promise. How much greater a hope can we have in what God has promised us?

King of Everything

2010-12-08T22:14:00.000-08:00

recently hooked on the Sara Bareilles CD.

from "King of Anything"
"Who cares if you disagree?
You are not me
Who made you king of anything?
So you dare tell me who to be?
Who died and made you king of anything?

Great song... the only person it does not apply to is our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Regarding Christ, it should be:

"~~Who~~ I care if You disagree,

You are not me,
~~Who made~~ You (are) the king of ~~any~~(every)thing.
So (only) You ~~dare~~ (can) tell me who to be,
~~Who~~ (Because You) died and ~~made you~~ (are the) King of ~~any~~(every)thing."

Only He is worthy and able to tell me who to be. Indeed, without Him, anything you can try to be is just delusion and self-deception.

Well, to everyone else, I still say...
WHO CARES if you disagree?
:P

The Question

2010-10-31T00:48:00.000-07:00

What should I do with my life?

I should be thankful that I even have the freedom and opportunity to ask this question.

Some of My Favorite Things

2010-10-23T01:03:00.000-07:00

I'd call a place

pure paradise

where families are loyal

and strangers are nice,

where the music is jazz

and the season is fall.

Promise me that

or nothing at all.

- Maya Angelou

In Exile

2010-10-02T02:10:00.000-07:00

Early this summer I remember feeling a little bit sad to have to leave for Taiwan so soon after just returning home for a week or so. I looked around my room the last day as I was packing, knowing that I was going to leave the comfort of my bed and the familiarity of my house. Then something clicked in my head. Goodbye, I told my room, you are not my true home anyway. Goodbye house, you have been good to me, but you I will not hesitate to leave you to follow my calling elsewhere. And then I picked up my luggage and left.

7 weeks later I returned, and for the first time in my life, home felt strange and foreign. Though everything I did returned to normal, I saw my life as from an outsider's point of view. While I lived life normally, my mind was busy making commentaries. And then I left again.

On a similar note, one of the greatest encouragement I received freshman year was ... a comment on Facebook. It went, "Homesick? Bless you! Been there. Survived that. What is even more heartbreaking is the day you realize that home - and all it represents: security, stability, certainty, a haven of rest, unconditional love, and more - is gone, for good. Of course, it is a painful process of spiritual maturing when you realize that none of those things were ever really found at home. Rather they are, and will always be, found in Jesus! I will pray for you as you take that journey, my sister."

On yet another note (it's related I promise),

While this song, In Exile by Thrice, is playing on my headphones, everything I shared above and all of these pictures below flash through my head as I'm walking to campus...

I am in exile, a sojourner
A citizen of some other place
All I've seen is just a glimmer in a shadowy mirror
But I know one day we'll see face to face.

I am a nomad, a wanderer

I have nowhere to lay my head down

There's no point in putting roots too deep when I'm moving on

Not settling for this unsettling town.

My heart is filled with songs of forever

The city that endures when all is made new

I know I don't belong here, I'll never

Call this place my home, I'm just passing through.

I am a pilgrim, a voyager

I won't rest until my lips touch the shore

Of the land that I've been longing for as long as I've lived

Where they'll be no pain or tears anymore.

My heart is filled with songs of forever

The city that endures when all is made new

I know I don't belong here, I'll never

Call this place my home, I'm just passing through.

summer is for bikes & beaches

2010-08-21T03:38:00.000-07:00

lovely view from the bike trail

awkward pose with the brother

cool crab

end of trail

and... look around the corner

ahhhh...

Growing Up with Toy Story

2010-08-02T00:34:00.000-07:00

I am a generation that has grown up with Toy Story. I mean how many kids of the generation now actually play with toys like the ones in the movie? They've probably got their hands all over Nintendo DS's and iphones or whatnot. The first movie I ever watched in the movie theaters was the first Toy Story when I was five. (I shared this with some kids at my church today, and without knowing it, completely revealed just how old I am! The first Toy Story came out even before they were born!) My dad always likes to remind me saying, "Do you remember your first time watching Toy Story in San Diego? Do you remember how just how excited you were? And how you couldn't stop telling me, "爸爸，爸爸！我現在真的很開心!" I do remember that day... it was complete childhood bliss. I don't even know if I understood what was going on, but my eyes were glued to the enormous screen and I loved it... and I know for sure that baby's head on spider legs still creeps me out until this day.

One main reason why I say I've grown up with Toy Story is that Andy and I (and most people my age) are similar in a lot of ways and share the same stage of life right when each movie came out. His toys have a life of their own. I'd always imagined my toys to also have a life (so I would always put all my stuffed animals together so they wouldn't get lonely during the day). As I grew older I would at times feel twinges of guilt for not playing with them as often anymore. As Andy grew up, so did I... all the way until Toy Story 3 when Andy goes to college and so am I in college.

And so yesterday I also watched Toy Story 3 with my family in theaters... 15 years after my first movie ever. Emotions of warmth came back as I saw those familiar Toy Story characters again. Words cannot describe the pure awesomeness of that movie. But I'm so much older now than the 5 year old kid who couldn't sit still in her seat out of excitement. The Toy Story series have come to a close and in the same way my childhood days have ended. Inevitably everybody grows older. But the ingenuity of the whole movie is that you never have to loose a childlike spirit of imagination and wonder. Cheers to you Toy Story. A blog post can never do you justice.

2010-05-21T01:13:00.000-07:00

You can say that I’ve been searching for something true and pure my whole life. Something that wasn’t fake, fleeting, or as Holden Caulfield puts it, “phony”, but something that was real, lasting, and good… something beautiful. (hence the name of this blog)

That just sounded so cliché that I could barf. But it’s true; this was a serious endeavor of mine. The quest started some time in late middle school or early high school when I started to become cynical about everything. I grew tired by the world around me. There had to be something more worthwhile than popularity at school, making friends to climb the social ladder, fake smiles, ostracizing “uncool” people, joining clubs you couldn’t care less about just to look good on college applications, or learning useless facts just for a test.

So I tried to find this beauty in many places. I found solace in the uninhibited beauty of nature. In closer, more sincere friendships. But I knew even those things weren’t ultimate. I was a very impressionable kid, and every wind of philosophy I heard seemed appealing. Being a skeptic, I didn’t trust anything except for my own reason and experiences. So in my mind, if we could never be so certain about the future, the best motto to live by then is carpe diem—to make the most out of what we know for certain, which is today. All I have to do is believe in myself and live up to my potential. In short—WOOHOO I‭ ‬WAS JUST A PRODUCT OF THE AMERICAN PUBLIC EDUCATION SYSTEM. I only trusted in myself and even started to doubt the existence of God.

I cried the day I realized that the most beautiful thing I was looking for was with me all along, yet I’d been on this grand quest. It was so simple: Jesus dying on the cross for me. But only then did it hit me that Jesus dying on the cross for my sin was the greatest example of unconditional love—love poured upon me that didn’t depend on who I was or what I did and never ceased with time… that is something TRULY beautiful.

And then I read Romans 8. End of story.

I didn’t “find” this beautiful thing by myself however. God found me. 1 Corinthians 1:20-4 says, “Where is the wise man? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not come to know God, God was well-pleased through the foolishness of the message preached to save those who believe. For indeed Jews ask for signs and Greeks search for wisdom; but we preach Christ crucified, to Jews a stumbling block and to Gentiles foolishness, but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God." And that’s how I got completely owned. Whatever inch of pride I had left was destroyed. I couldn’t even “find” my way to God or somehow use my own intellect to conjure up and understand the gospel. I don’t have a crazy life-turned-180 testimony, but I can tell you that God’s grace is powerful if he can save someone as rebellious, skeptical, and free-minded as I was.

I’ve been rebuked a lot since then. As for my recurring cynicism, I’ve learned that I’m not here to judge people, but to love those around me. But no matter how many times I sin, it all comes back to the simple, beautiful truth: God’s love for me exemplified by Jesus on the cross.

I think I’ve just shared my whole life story in this one blog post. Just to let you know, I didn’t intend for it to be that way. All I wanted to do was to explain a little more of the meaning behind the name of this blog. Now that I think the purpose of my blog is now finished, FAREWELL forever. Just kidding. While Christ being ultimate, there are still a lot of beautiful things in this world to write about. I’ll probably post again soon.

echoes

2010-03-25T02:25:00.000-07:00

Every time I come back home, I am faced with the painful reality: "It's not supposed to be like this."

As with most other things, I tell myself to suck it up. But I can't just ignore it. There are billions of children in the world with this same thought. Many have it much worse off than I do. But the cry is still the same, all the people echoing, "it's not supposed to be like this..."

take a step back...

2010-03-19T00:12:00.000-07:00

One thing I miss about being home is that at any time of the day I can just go outside and take a walk in my backyard. And just being all alone in silence and seeing the stars despite the light-polluted sky gives me a peace of mind quite unlike any other. (such an obvious indication of how introverted I am)

I can't live life without reflection. without contemplation. That's like running in circles with your eyes closed. So in Berkeley, it's harder to just find a quiet place where I can be alone. To begin with, it's not even safe to wander around alone at night. But before I go back into my apartment, I do just sit and pause once in awhile. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like in the busyness of college. I see my life from afar, from a detached third person perspective. And I see how trivial everything is and how near-sighted I am, going bipolar over every tiny circumstance. I remember to just trust in God, because He controls everything. And best of all, He causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him, even if I don't understand all His ways. These are the thoughts I'm thinking about. Then as I go up the stairs, through the hallway and face the door of my apartment, it all comes back. I know I am entering back into little world and its bubble of troubles all over again. I take a breath. And I enter. But now I enter with a new understanding. Because as easy as it is for me to be alone, I know my life is meaningless if I don't love others. Loving others is the only true test if I know anything about God's love.

This is the kind of post where I keep to myself and don't let anyone read. Because I think too much. And then I think about why I think so much and why I'm so weird like that. So why is this up? Oh well. I think that's my best reason.

the fall of creativity

2010-03-06T03:37:00.000-08:00

Digging up those middle and high school creative writings is always an amusing experience. I stumble upon the most ridiculous stories and bleak poetry from those emo, angsty teenage days. Here is something particularly interesting that I came upon.

Long before I ever watched the Bourne series, I conjured up and wrote a short story about a killer wrestling with his guilty conscience and then unexpectedly apologizing to the loved ones of the people he killed. So when I finally saw Bourne Supremacy last semester and on came the scene where Bourne found Neski’s daughter and apologized to her for killing her parents, I was thinking…. wait… this seems familiar for some reason… ohh yeahh, I wrote a story like this in 8^th grade! Here is an excerpt of the beginning and ending of my short story, if you care to read what is possibly the apex of all my creative literary achievements. (Sadly high school and college had squelched all those creative tendencies in all forms of writing since then.)

“It was damp and dark in the cave. Memories flooded in his mind… Screams filled his head, those of a woman. The woman. Her face of pain and grief was imprinted in his mind forever. The screams of a dying man. The soft cry of a baby. The yelling of the police. Dazed pictures of blurred red. Again the woman’s face. Swiftly, something took over him. Was it an earthquake? No, it was only his head that was making him dizzy and sick. He noticed his trembling hand that gripped the pistol. It slowly slipped from his hands, and he turned and ran. There was silence, only the dashing thuds of his footsteps, or was it his heart?

And suddenly, the pictures were gone. All was black and silent in the cave as was his black coat and facemask. It was cold. He bunched up and hid his face in his arms, looking down.

“Why couldn’t I take it this time?” he thought to himself. “I have killed before and ran away without even thinking about it, but why did this time make me dizzy and disgusted?” The shaking picture of the red, red that was spilled everywhere seized his mind. “Why do I feel pain?” Now the woman’s agonized face popped up, while the cry of the baby echoed in his ears. His memories had answered all his questions for him. Before, he had only killed at pitch dark, where there was only a soft blast and the man was still and dead and alone as he quickly pilfered his wallet and snatched the suitcase of cash. This time, he’d only shot his victim on the shoulder, and to silence him, he fired more and more until blood gushed out like a river. The police came and hovered around and he shot out more to escape. One bullet had landed on the baby.

“I killed a baby, I killed a baby, god damn, I killed a baby. An innocent, precious child.” What had he become? Slowly he slouched into a troubled sleep.

The yellow sun came up and he aroused also. He lifted his head up, pulled off his black facemask. Out shook a young face of a teenager with brown hair framing around it. It would have almost been a fresh, lively face if it hadn’t been murdered and hardened at such a young age. Blinking in the bright sunlight, he looked around him. There was a dark cave or ditch of some sort, well hidden from the rest of the evil civilization and the hated, uncaring people it possessed. He caught a glimpse of his black attire, and all the memories flooded in again. He forcefully fought them away, but it was his sudden realization of his hunger that chased those thoughts away. In his awakening, hunger roared at his stomach. Nearby, tattered bag of random items he had stolen was sadly lying. He rummaged through it and found a wallet. In it was a small pack of strong mints. Through his hunger, the murderer fairly chucked the whole box into his mouth. As the mints were burning through his tongue, the memories came again. This time, it was only that woman, that poor, poor woman with the shattered look on her eyes. He had killed her husband and her baby. Another life ruined liked his own…

[Skip to the ending of the story where he goes to apologize to the woman]
Now he was face to face with the plain brown door [of the woman’s house]…Trembling hands that once gripped a gun now trembled more violently as it lifted to push the doorbell.

A small woman with straight brown hair creaked open the door. Although quite beautiful, her skin now had a tint of gray.

“Hello, Ms. Would you like to purchase some candy to help…” Her eyes met mine now. A scream let out.

The woman dashed in, fumbled the phone, and dialed 911, thought for a while, then slammed the phone down.

“If you want to kill me like you did to my baby and my husband, you can do it now. I haven’t much to live for anyway.”

Silence.

He stood there and his brain froze. She knew who he was…

“How did you know…?”

“How do I not know the eyes of my baby’s killer? Your eyes are imprinted in my head forever.” she said calmly. “ But I couldn’t imagine you to be so young. You can shoot me now, or else the police will be arriving.”

Neighbors were pacing around in a frantic outside now as they heard the scream and now saw the police cars arriving. Hubbub swarmed all over outside. The police quietly pushed the neighbors away as they circled the house.

In the quiet gray room of the house, he was just standing there as the memories came back in a slide show this time, piece by piece. It was silent but peaceful in the room. Outside was a world of havoc with sirens and frantic yells.

“So aren’t you going to shoot me now? Or what else did you come here for?”

“I’m… sorry.” Before tears could bulge out, the murderer dashed right out the door leaving a shocked woman standing in the room.

He ran right out, dropped his gun, and stood there while the bullets silently and slowly drained life out of the young, fresh-faced teenager.” The End.

I think sharing and posting this short story is much more for my amusement value than for your own personal value of how much you even care about this. But what more is a blog than a channel for self-absorbed musings and to spit out fiercely rebellious statements that won't amount to anything? As I see it, a blog is just the height of one’s own narcissism. But that’s ok! Ever since those English teachers told you to write concisely and clearly using concrete details and omitting the first person “I”, the creative and expressive side of writing was already all but destroyed. That is why the advent of the personal blog, a medium for self-expression, is then so crucial to keep people like me sane.

I am rambling. But I hope you do enjoy the story written by 8^th grade Sandra. I have to say I was a rather morbid kid. But all I can say now is that Jason Bourne completely RIPPED OFF of my story. Just kidding. Jason Bourne would totally own any murder story I can come up with. He pretty much rocks. In fact, he's probably watching you right now.

read about my day

2010-01-20T01:04:00.000-08:00

http://j7adore.blogspot.com/

To experiment with her new baby (an SLR!), Mary goes paparazzi ... on me.

I feel like blogging only when it's after 2 am

2010-01-08T03:00:00.000-08:00

Every morning I wake up to find a cup of a mysterious orange-brownish concoction sitting on the counter glaring at me. My dad makes a mean shake every morning by blending everything and anything supposedly healthy. Every morning I am forced to pick up this cup, place it to my lips, and gulp this viscous mixture as it oozes down my throat. After I chug it down, I wash out the remaining bits with gulps of fresh water but there is no way to get rid of the pungent taste that still permeates my mouth. The drink immediately fills up my stomach and steals away all my appetite for cereal and milk, toast and tea, or whatever breakfast I had otherwise planned on and looked forward to eating. This is what I wake up to every morning when I'm back home, when I finally decide to drag myself out of of bed at around 11 am.

Every morning, my dad wakes up at 8 am to make sure his family starts the day with something healthy. He carefully washes and chops up all the organic fruits and vegetables he had picked out earlier that week from the market. He had studied up and learned to do all this from a book on nutrition that he had been reading for months. He patiently prepares everything and makes 3 cups; 1 for himself, 1 for mom, and 1 for me, and then rushes off to work.

Every morning I wake up to my dad’s cup of love for me. No matter how much it makes me gag, I still drink it every morning.

only at berkeley

2009-12-17T17:31:00.000-08:00

After protesters pulled off an alarm for the walk-out, only at Berkeley will you see professors still teaching outside with chalk on the wall our most drab, gray, suicide-prone, just plain ugly building on campus.
(this pic is stolen from twitter)

Now this is a pic from me, as I walked by the building a couple days later.

something about the rain

2009-11-18T01:42:00.000-08:00

Something about the rain always puts me in a certain mood. The moods differ each time: sometimes the mood is melancholy and gloomy, but sometimes it brings awe and wonder at God's unspoken beauty; sometimes it times elicits joy mixed with sorrow; but whatever the mood may be, there is always a sense of peace and reflection.

Although my housemates seem to differ in opinion, I've always enjoyed the view outside our window. I think it's pretty :) but then again, sometimes I find weird things to be pretty. I recently came across this photo I took in high school:

This was one of my favorite spots on my high school campus. Amidst the yucky, gum-dotted floor, some weeds had grown through the cracks of the cement, in the shape of a .... well go figure out the obvious, because I was quite surprised at how many people didn't get it when I showed this to them.

an unspectacular but wonderful day

2009-11-07T18:44:00.000-08:00

Saturday 11/7/09
outdoor farmer's market, swing dancing on Sproul, shopping at Jeremy's, ice cream at Ici, biking through the crisp autumn air, having the privilege of sharing the gospel, sister's prayer meeting at night...a wonderful day of my sophomore year at Berkeley.

I don't know why but I just wanted to remember this day. I wish I took pictures, but I guess they'll just stay in my head.

2009-10-23T01:10:00.001-07:00

Being the procrastinator I am, of course I would blog in late October about my summer trip to Beijing.

There are so many vivid scenes and memories. Here's just a quick recap of some of them:
- buying 包子 (baozi) and soymilk every morning for breakfast!
- sneaking out at midnight to light fireworks
- pedal-boating in the Summer Palace
- climbing on top of the cliffs on the Yellow Mountains and gazing downwards toward a vertical plummet of thousands of feet
- doing taichi on the Great Wall
- going clubbing for the first time, but instead ending up just taking care of drunk classmates
- sleeping in an overnight train
- having 14+ mosquito bites on my legs
- haggling something down 90% of its original price in a flea market
- squatting outside eating durian with our hands
- giving a commencement speech in Chinese
- bumping into a high school friend on the same subway station, same time, same train, same subway entrance in all of China (when does that ever happen?!)
- Peking Duck. enough said.
- having the same Chinese song stuck in my head for 6 weeks
- trying to share the gospel in Chinese
- McDonald's taro pies!
- having a photoshoot with 4 friends, wearing the same exact fake dress we haggled from the flea market.
- staying up all night in our hotel rooms during the last night, just chatting and sharing with friends I've made for 7 whole weeks.

Overall, an unforgettable experience. 真的是一個難忘的回憶！

what's in your cup of tea?

2009-09-24T02:27:00.000-07:00

It seems as if many people know exactly what their cup of tea is. They seem to know exactly what they want to do with their life, and they have their life planned out. And because of this, they can walk around with purpose. Right now they're focused on taking those prerequisite classes, studying hard for a good GPA, building up their resumes, getting internships, applying to grad school... all so they can pursue that dream career. Of course it's awesome if you know what you're passionate about, and are working your way to fulfill your aspirations, but I've always wondered just how do people really know what they want to do with their lives? Have they tried enough different kinds of tea to find out which one is their favorite? Were they lucky enough to find a particular flavor early-on and like it so much that they are pleased to just stick with it? Or did they just read and research all about a certain type of tea that they have enough faith to pursue it, even though they've never actually tasted it before? Or did they not have to choose at all, because long before they even thought about it, their parents set down before them a cup of tea and told them drink?

Even if people don't know what they want to do, at least they know what is definitely not their cup of tea. (Have I killed the tea analogy yet?) For some people it's, "Math and science? Never! I can't even do fractions." For some people it's, "Humanities? Give me a math problem over writing a paper any day.

To my great inconvenience, I don't fall into either categories, not even the second one. There’s never been a subject that I really didn’t enjoy at one time or another. Science opens my eyes to see how the physical world works and how to put my hypothesis to test through the scientific method. History has always engaged my interest, with its fascinating stories about what people, not so different from us, had experienced in the past. Math has fun logic games, and nothing compares with the satisfaction I get from figuring a hard math problem on my own. Literature and the arts have the power to portray the human condition, and I have been more often moved to tears by reading books than by watching movies. Oh and psychology lets me figure out just how many mental cases I have. And the list goes on and on. Ideally, my cup of tea would be the entire world! Just like the Yael Naim song, “I’m a young soul, in this very strange world, hoping I could learn a ‘bit bout what is true or fake.” Why should I limit myself when a world of knowledge is out there for me to explore and understand?

Unfortunately college requires a specialization in a major and the real, working world looms over me and scrutinizes me for any specialized skills I may have. And as I'm starting my sophomore year, I have even less of a clue of what I want to major in than I was coming in as a freshman. Reality kicks in.

But for now, my cup of tea looks like this.

What is this, you ask? What has political figures swimming in my tea have to do with anything?? Good question. I have no idea. My roommate sent this to me, because she said it reminded her of me. Besides coming up with vague conclusions that I like tea and I'm considering a major in political science, I'm not even sure why I put this up, except for my own amusement value and the fact that it was sort of the impetus for this long post.

So long til next time!

post about blogging

2009-09-16T18:44:00.000-07:00

So after much procrastination, I've decided to blog again. Why? Because a blog gives me a venue to record all the craziness inside my head, rather than sit idly in a discussion, wandering off and thinking up a storm while the GSI rambles on and on, and then suddenly class is over and poof! gone forever are all those half-formed thoughts in my head.

So when I say blogging, I mean instead of my current, lousy biannual posts, I'll maybe open the door a little wider, a little more frequently into an extremely confused, run-on-sentence-filled, cynically skeptical, yet romantically idealistic kaleidoscope of a room... also known as Sandra's head. It's where fanciful thoughts occur, where the rules of grammar don't exist, and where interjections often take up more of the post than the original point. For all of this, I apologize beforehand.

With all this said, welcome!

Knowing God

2009-02-20T23:57:00.001-08:00

Knowing God

"We must learn to measure ourselves, not by our knowledge of God, not by our gifts and responsibilities in the church, but by how we pray and what goes on in our hearts. Many of us, I suspect, have no idea how impoverished we are at this level."

"We are, perhaps, orthodox evangelicals. We can state the gospel clearly; we can smell unsound doctrine a mile away... Yet the gaiety, goodness, and unfetteredness of spirit which are the marks of those who have known God are rare among us... A little knowledge of God is worth far more than a great deal of knowledge about him." - J. I. Packer, Knowing God.

Many churchgoers know about God; few know God. We can spill off verses, recite the gospel front to back, and maybe even understand eschatology and apologetics, but few of us claim to have known God and be known by Him.
In our devotions, devout study of the Word, and services to God, how horrifying it would be at the end if we were to enter the kingdom of heaven saying "Lord, Lord" yet He answers "I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness." (Matthew 7: 23)

Though we pride in having the accurate gospel, it is not enough to merely know about God. We must desperately seek after Him, understand Him, and have a personal relationship. "This 'knowledge' puffs up, but love builds up. If anyone imagines that he knows something, he does not yet know as he ought to know. But if anyone loves God, he is known by God." (1 Corinthians 8:1-3)

"Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom or the strong man boast of his strength or the rich man boast of his riches, but let him who boasts, boast about this: that he understands and knows me." (Jeremiah 9:23-24)

Of course faithful and diligent study of God's Word is crucial for any kind of spiritual growth. We cannot possibly live for Christ and if we don't even know what His Word says. But what is our aim of reading God's Word? To know more answers to things? To give proper Christian answers? To gain theological knowledge?
"To be preoccupied with getting theological knowledge as an end in itself, to approach the Bible study with no higher a motive than a desire to know all the answers, is the direct route to a state of self-satisfied self-deception... Our aim in studying the Godhead must be to know God himself better. Our concern must be to enlarge our acquaintance, not simply with the doctrine of God's attributes, but with the living God whose attributes they are. As he is the subject study, and our helper in it, so he must himself be the end of it." - J I Packer. Studying God's word is merely a tool, albeit an important one, that leads to personal fellowship with God.

We cannot take our knowledge lightly, much less pride ourselves in it. Once we know and understand the gospel, there is no turning back. We either accept it or reject it. The more we know, the higher standard we have to uphold, because we cannot plead ignorance. "And the servant who knew his master's will but did not get read or act according to his will, will receive a severe beating... Everyone to whom much was given, of him much will be required, and from him to whom they entrusted much, they will demand the more." (Luke 12:47-48) Sometimes I fear gaining too much knowledge, not because I fear knowledge itself, but I fear the condemnation that comes when knowledge merely puffs one up and produces no fruit. So instead of inundating my head with sermons and theological terms, instead give me one good sermon, let me digest it and examine myself and renew my heart to repentance.

At the end, knowledge, even accurate knowledge about the gospel and saving grace, does not save. How then do we know God, you might ask? "And by this we know that we have come to know him, if we keep his commandments...By this we may be sure that we are in him: whoever says he abides in him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked." (1 John 2:3-6) A heart that seeks after God's heart, a life that rests solely upon Jesus, the Firm Foundation, and holiness and love that radiates from a transformed heart are the marks of a true Christian.

Do you know God? Does He know you?

and no... I don't want to graduate so fast

2008-04-22T23:50:00.000-07:00

With less than 30 days of high school left, a part of me feels itching to get out. And if you've talked to me this whole year, you might have noticed how many times I've mentioned that I'm so ready to graduate and leave.

But hold that thought.

4 years of life at Walnut High School... 4 years of walking to classes, lunch with the group, club meetings, of 12-hour school days, sunrise to sunset. Can I really just take all that and walk away? Of course I'm not idealizing my 4 years of high school. There was much uncomfortable fitting in, embarrassing moments, hard work, and wanting to give up. But yesterday during lunch, I was reminded of how much I have taken for granted. It was a truly enjoyable lunch, with friends I've known for 4 years, and laughter and jokes. I was comfortable and happy with where I was. There was no more bitterness, resentment at coming to Walnut (and not my old school), frustration at myself and my environment. And even as I walk around campus, I don't even see how everyone complains about it being so ugly. It's not that ugly, when the weather is perfect and the flowers are in bloom. And all the people I've met the past 4 years... the people who make me smile with their silly quirks, are all going to part. Of course I can meet up with them again after I graduate but it's never the same.

and no...I realize, I don't want to graduate so fast.

Part of it is because I've been involved in activities that's been very dear to me. Only two school activities really dominated my senior year: MORE Club and Astronomy Club. Last week was my last MORE club trip to Vejar and my last time seeing my 3rd grade buddy, Katelyn, whom I had for the past 2 years. MORE Club was always strikingly different from my other mundane school activities that I forced myself to do... every Wednesday I'd be excited after school when the bus reached Vejar Elementary and my buddy and all those kids would be there waiting. I'd forget everything else and just be so happy to be with kids. a breath of fresh air. And for the last MORE club, I just played with Katelyn and tried to be happy. I didn't want to press on her that this was the last time I would probably see her. So as I watched her walk away from school for the last time, I felt sad but I thought... it's all worth it. I was so grateful to be in MORE Club because it made my whole high school career so much more meaningful. To know that I've had a lasting impact on another child...and that the memories will always be there.

Tonight was another monthly star party for Astronomy Club. The sky wasn't too clear because of smog and light pollution. But Charissa, a Philipinno girl with a round face, is always faithful in showing up. She is always off to the side and not talked to often. But she tells me that she is reminded about the majesty of God when she looks up at the stars. She tells me that she's learned a lot from her two years at Astronomy Club... and now has the habit of looking up when she steps outside, just as I have. And at this moment, I know that it is all worth it... being president of Astronomy Club, organizing star parties, and getting to know Charissa. It's worth it if all it did was to touch one person with the awe of the universe, the presence of the all-powerful God. For one individual to find her place in the cosmos and be at peace with herself.

These are the moments that make up life.

How personal is your UC application essay?

2008-02-28T19:33:00.000-08:00

I have written a lot this school year, though I admit not much of it is for this blog. As gross as it may seem, I spent a good amount of my time this year writing for college applications, scholarships, and TOK. Many were very personal.
Prompt 1 for my UC application, for example. I wrote about my persectives on my dad, and while I was doing this I realized... if my parents don't even know I feel this way, why am I sharing so much about myself with total strangers-- those people in some admissions office far off? How strange that I am willing to show my true feelings to total strangers and not to my own parents. Enough said, it is time to share some of my thoughts with you and to challenge myself to share this to my own parents, though to them, it would not be through these words but through my actions.
******************

It was a typical Sunday night and my family was eating out at another Chinese restaurant. I was dragged out of the house, because my mom didn’t cook on weekends. The meal passed by in silence and I ate sullenly. I would have much rather been at home, chatting to my friends and finishing the weekend homework. I don’t have what you would call a perfect family. Everyone is so consumed with his or her own affairs that we barely talk to each other. It’s like we live four separate lives all under the same roof. The meal went on in silence, and I tried to think of something to say to Dad but could find nothing. This troubled me deeply. Why couldn’t I even talk to my own dad? I glanced at my Dad’s face and began to study the wrinkles around his eyes, and suddenly the whole situation changed. For the first time I saw the world through my dad’s eyes. He had grown up in communist China and was sent to work in a factory during the Cultural Revolution. But he still studied hard on his own to make up for the high school education that he had missed, passed the college entrance exam, and entered the University of Shanghai. He then moved to the United States for a better life, even though he knew no English. There he helped form a small computer company and soon became a successful man who was able to raise his children in a two-story house in the suburbs. His life was one of hard work and perseverance, but to me my dad seemed old-fashioned and absurd in his habits. That night, however, I saw a my dad as a man who went through much hardships and came all the way to America just to raise an ungrateful daughter who couldn’t understand him, who even scorned him because she grew up in comfort he had never dreamed of and was immersed in a foreign culture he knew nothing about.
On the car ride home, I cried silently in the dark. I finally realized how narrow my mind had been. I thought of all the times I grew frustrated when my Dad tried to speak English. I even resented him because he held so strongly to his Chinese beliefs and could never seem to assimilate to American culture. My dad loved me so much yet I was trapped in my ungratefulness and didn’t take the time to really understand his point of view. When I got home that night I felt a burning desire to write. So I put pen on paper and scribbled down all my thoughts in my journal, a habit I’ve kept for the past ten years. Writing has always been a therapeutic device for me to make sense of my own thoughts and the world around me.
Through my writing I began to understand that the truth of things had many sides. That ordinary night changed how I view my world, especially how I view my family. Whereas before I resented my family, now my whole mindset has changed. Though my family is still not perfect, I can at least change my attitude and appreciate them fully. And this, a subtle recognition on an ordinary night, has made all the difference.

a poem for you

2007-10-28T16:50:00.000-07:00

Good and Evil.
Dark and Light.
I tried to find the line
where one ended and the other began.
This is what I found:
A tyrant who loves his daughter,
A pastor with a broken family,
A kindly face harboring evil thoughts,
A stern face that is crying inside.
Aren't we all the same?
Aren't we all shades of gray?
A murderer might love again,
Yet jealousy never dies.

Views on Feminism

2007-10-15T23:26:00.000-07:00

When I was younger, my view on feminism was a typical girls-are-better-than-boys mentality, somewhere along the lines of, "Great! Feminism! Women are equal to men and should stand up for their rights!"
But as I mature I see the excessive, selfish, and foolish side of extreme feminism, and I hesitate to give my full praise. I'm not saying that the former view is in any way wrong and still stand strongly by that belief. However it is subversive of the whole concept of equality when feminists go so far to claim that women are greater than men and become men-haters. The feminist then prides herself in being ultra-independent and successful, scorning love and believing that marriage would only hinder her. She becomes a workaholic, living only for herself or for her cause, and never learning that true joy comes from love and a humble heart instead of her many achievements.

Here then is the distinction of a strong woman. She does not deny her weaknesses or claim an equal role with men. A strong woman is one who accepts and embraces her role as a woman--and fulfills it to the highest calling. But she knows that although her role may be different, her self-worth is not less than anyone, neither a man's. She respects her husband and even if she does not head the household; she is the key supporter that holds everything together; without her the household would be in ruins. A strong example I find for this woman is Hester Prynne who faces her sin and endures her punishment in The Scarlet Letter. Another is the Queen of Sparta in the movie the 300, who does not go to the battlefield with her husband but rather endures the pain of waiting for the news at home, whether it is victory of death to her loved one. Meanwhile, she fully comprehends her duty at home, and being just as important as the battlefield, she preserves the state of Sparta.

Maybe I am a traditionalist of sorts. But this essentially what I am saying: though I do support women to go out and become successful in the world, I also believe that a woman who stays at home and raises children is just strong and admirable as the career-oriented woman.

Here I'll leave off with a quote from Breakfast at Tiffany's. It doesn't seem to be completely related but still follows a similar tangent of thought. The character that Audrey Hepburn plays considers herself to be independent and free-spirited, with no one tying her down as she merely swtiches from man to man to receive favors and money. But this is what she ends up as: "You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You're chicken, you've got no guts. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, "Okay, life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness." You call yourself a free spirit, a "wild thing," and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself. "

In the end it's the paradox that her sense of freedom and wildness actually encages herself.

True strength comes in accepting one's own weakness. And this is another paradox.

paradoxes

2007-08-25T00:33:00.000-07:00

thoughts inspired from ..what do you know.. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

Death is a major theme in this book.
"you are the true master of death, because the true master does not seek to run away from Death. he accepts that he must die, and understands that there are far, far, worse things in the living world than dying." -harry potter 7
funny how this paradox works out... only those prepared to die ever truly live. in the end the motive is ever as important as the goal. one might gain the world but lose his soul. one who seeks after power and fame is never worthy to receive it. one who fears death and tries to escape it never finds life. leadership is often thrust upon those who are least expecting it. and because they lead not for their own glory, fame, ambition, but of necessity, they tend to make the wisest decisions.

only those who are willing to loose everything, will find meaning in life.

The Bible also grasps this idea. "For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel's will save it. For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his life?" -Luke 8:35-36

borrowing also from The Catcher in the Rye is the idea that once you know what you'd die for, only then will you truly live.

life is a paradox.

a few things on my mind

2007-07-10T15:15:00.000-07:00

few things on my mind lately...

my short-term missions trip to Avondale, Arizona

there are many similarities between this little suburb and our little town of walnut
please pray for them

******************
UCLA Mock Trial Institute

I was so blessed to get to know a wonderful girl during my week at UCLA. she was from Idaho but recently moved to LA. She showed me pictures of the hundreds of horse and elk she used to have right by her house in Idaho. she told me that she didn't have parents and lived with a gay couple whom she called uncles. Her mom was into drugs and she'd lived on hardly any income with all her brothers and sisters. she'd been through abuse. she was baptized a Mormon but saved as a Christian. she'd been working since 14 and told me that people in Idaho got married right after high school because they had nowhere better to go. she told me stories of how her boyfriend's little nephew had died in a car accident and how her uncle also died 2 years ago. and instead of being overcome by grief she took it and learned from it. she told me never to take my friends or family for granted because any day might be your last. when i complained about school she told me to treasure my last year of high school. her dream in life is to help the poor and downtrodden, and especially kids who goes through what she's been through. she says she doesn't care all that much for money but that she'd be perfectly happy traveling and helping others her whole life. despite all of her past, she looks toward the future with optimism. she is sincere, down-to-earth, and wise beyond her years. She is real and not fake, one of the few i've met.
i just felt that her story needed to be shared. that's all.
please pray for her. she's been on my mind.

Summer has been good. these 2 experiences have in some way tweaked the subtle tint in which i view the world.

random, incoherent, unorganized thoughts because this is not an English essay and I don't feel like organizing them

2007-06-03T19:30:00.000-07:00

throughout this year i've come to realize that happiness is such a variable term. and i've come to realize more and more that being happy doesn't depend on external circumstances but from within. the truly blessed aren't those who always achieves their dreams, but are those who can be happy in every situation.

so this junior year was tough. and sure the confining school campus, gloomy oppressive weather, and the heaping piles of work to do gets me down. but after awhile i came to a certain point of oblivion and apathy (which may be a good or bad thing) and thinking... why do I let the such stupid trivial things get me down? in a course of a lifetime, does it matter? and i concluded that everything was vain, everything was for pride, for image, for pressure and conformity. "Everything is meaningless, a chasing after the wind" as Solomon puts it in Ecclesiastes. So what?

And success is rather, well... overrated. and to think that success brings happiness is the greatest folly of all. The anticipation before a roller coaster is always more fearful than the actual drop, the excitement always exceeds reality, the pursuit of a dream always more potent than the actual prize. And nothing can put this into words more eloquently than Emily Dickinson's poetry:
"Nor was I hungry; so I found
That hunger was a way
Of persons outside windows,
The entering takes away."

Astronomy Club

2007-05-25T21:07:00.000-07:00

official nerd status: Sandra Lee, (co-)President of Astronomy Club, 2007-2008.
so JOIN next year!
we party like no other under the stars. =)

my anti-emo entry

2007-05-22T22:06:00.000-07:00

my anti-emo entry:

I suggest we learn to love ourselves
Before it's made illegal
When will we learn?
When will we change?
Just in time to see it all fall down
Those left standing will make millions
Writing books on the way it should have been

Warning- Incubus

this i find is the truest contradiction and laugh: how we suburban teenagers complain about school and workload while millions of others in the world would give anything just to have an education! How millions out there would kill to have a stable means of living, extra spending money, nice solid 2-story house, leisure time and here we are saying that life sucks... life is a dark abyss... stress from school is killing me... my parents don't understand me because i don't tell them shit in the first place...i have stupid problems with annoying people i don't like. now as depression rates go up in school as it nears AP testing time, just remember that school is a blessing. and if you don't get your 5 on the test, your 2400 on the SAT, at least you weren't born in the ghettos or some far off country in Africa, digging the earth for yummy worms to eat (which i hear have a lot of nutrients by the way)
i hate it whenever i write these posts or say anything of this kind because when i do, i feel like the biggest walking hypocrite in the world. but keeping everything inside would not prove to be much better either. so why post personal thoughts online of all places? in the open, public arena, a network literally connected all over the world, and also a source for stalkers and such? of course i keep other personal thoughts in a journal but sometimes bottling things up just isn't good for you. it's sort of like freeing yourself from your own thoughts when you decide to let others know. and it creates room to start fresh and move on.
and why not speak your mind? As Emerson says "speak what you think now in hard words, and tomorrow speak what tomorrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict everything you say today...To be great is to be misunderstood"