New Blog

I'm switching everything over to my email at drw***@gmail.com, which means I will be starting up a new blogspot.

I might post some unpublished drafts that I have on here (i have over 100... lol.  Most will probably not be published, though...), or I might not.  In any case, more regular posting will probably occur here from now on.

please don't let it be him.

"David?  What are you doing here?"

I fumble out an unconvincing answer, and he invites me inside.


"What does that smell remind you of?"

It reminds me of you.  Of freshman year.  Of anticipation and hope for a new friendship.  But I don't say that.  I can't bring myself to.


"Do you have painful memories of Rice?  ...What's the most painful?"

"Not being cared for in the way that I wanted to be cared for."  Unintentionally, my words are thinly veiled and I wonder if he connects the dots.

We move on to a different topic.  I feel somewhat relieved.

---

We hug and his tears wet my shoulder.  My fingers trace their outlines after he steps away into conversation with someone else.  He gets +points from me for this.

I don't cry back.  I wonder if that's because I'm drained from human interaction, or if I don't allow myself to feel, or if I just don't care enough because it doesn't matter that much, does it?

---

When did I become the jokester?  I didn't know my default is to want to lighten the mood.  I always thought my default was introspective Debbie Downer... ok, it probably still kind of is.

maybe I'm learning the balance between the two.  Or maybe it's because I don't want to go deep anymore.  This year... man, this year.  I don't think I've felt more closed off in any other year.

A reminder that I still have a voice to be heard and a story to share.

This time, it's not me working to fight ignorance, though.

For my Alternative Spring Break, we were building houses for a few days for new, low-income immigrant families. 

I am inside putting doors on in a house with a couple of other members of my ASB, blasting my iPhone and speakers as usual.  John is outside constructing the framework of the house next door with another member of our ASB and an immigrant worker.  The dialogue is paraphrased by me as best as I can remember from John relating this story.

John:  He really likes pop music.

Worker:  What is pop music?

John:  Kind of like girly music.

Worker:  Oh, so he must be gay then.

John:  I dunno, that's not my place to say...

Worker:  Well if he's gay, he should go to jail... gay people love it in jail.

John:  ...well, would you want to be forced to have sex with an old, ugly woman every day?

Worker:  No...

John:  So likewise, gay people don't love being raped either.

Props to John for fighting for the gay community.  =)

A little chilling that this was said about me... but I guess I am blessed that this is the most homophobic anyone has ever been to me.

Plastic Boy

WARNING:  To avoid danger of suffocation,
keep this bag boy away from babies and children me.
This bag boy is not a toy.

I've never kissed anyone.
But I've baked a salted caramel cupcake for you.
I've mumbled my wardrobe secrets to you.
I've made cafeteria dinner plans with you.

You're the only one I look for when I turn around in my seat,
and I will stare into everyone's eyes
just to make sure they aren't you.

I will watch your back
as you walk away,
and my friend will see me,
put her hand on my arm and say,
Oh, David.

At night, when you are
a hundred miles away,
I will lie on the dock by the lake,
waiting for you to lie with me and stargaze
into my eyes.

I will crawl into you and
you will swallow me up
until you're all I see
and all I feel.
Until the only air I breathe
is my own.

I've kissed your lips
a hundred times.  And each time,
you like it.

Three Thoughts

God has granted me at least a couple of mental health years.

He knows I need them.

Perhaps the worst part is the scrambling for what I want to do.

---

I really, really enjoyed my Alternative Spring Break.  Immigration is such a complex and fascinating issue, and will always have a place in my heart now.

---

The trip made me wonder again if I hold "diversity" up too high, or if I am actually justifiably tired of constantly hanging around other Asian-Americans.

Urbana '12

obviously too much to encapsulate in one measly post, but it was really, really good.  Greg Jao (the emcee again!) told us to think about what we're going to say when people ask us how Urbana was.  He asked us to not proceed to give them an information dump, but find something that hooks them in and makes them want to know more.  I think for me, I'd respond to "How was Urbana?" by saying, "It was really good.  I cried a lot and became a missionary."

haha, but seriously, I found myself crying a lot. 

In fact, during one of the seminars, I actually had to bite my finger so I wouldn't start sobbing.  I cried so much throughout the whole seminar that I was kind of like, "Is this normal?  Is anyone else crying?  Why am I so emotionally unstable??"  A few other people were crying so I think it wasn't just my instability.  The seminar was just one woman, Iris, talking about her and her family's work in the Middle East over the past 30 years.

I'm reading over my notes and trying to make sense of them and decide what I want to put into this post.  Unfortunately, I can tell that during some of my notes I was probably wiping away tears and couldn't type because she must have said way more than the handful of words that I wrote down.

These words will probably always stick with me:

Every time I read the news, I cry.  Because I didn't come back whole.  A part of me is still in those places. When I read about Sudan, Chad, Afghanistan... my heart is in all these little pieces scattered around the world. 

But I want my life to be that way; it's a bigger life this way.

I've thought about this quote quite a bit and how it really relates to my life.  I mean, I don't cry every time I read the news, but I lose a part of me with the people groups and places that I interact with.  The world is too large for me to just sit and bide my time away with the same Christians that I've known all my life.

Mormons will always strike a chord.  The last exhibit I visited--and I didn't even mean to visit it, I just stumbled upon it on my way out--was on sending mission trips to Utah to train people on how to evangelize to Mormons.  I was just kind of awestruck at the organization, and wished I had gone to something like it in high school.

The LGBT community and its issues will always make my heart ache.  Houston, its skylines and streets, and Rice will always have a section of my heart.  Bolivia and Cochabamba will always make my ears perk up.

My heart is in these pieces and with these people, and when I first heard Iris speak, I was like, man, crying all the time when you read the news or having your heart in all these little pieces sounds like it sucks.

But when she said that she wouldn't have it any other way, that she wants her life to be this way, that it's bigger this way... I understood.

I love my experiences and what God has brought me through.  Even if it hurts.

Something else that Iris said that I really enjoyed was her reference to The Hobbit.  I haven't seen it yet, since I'm supposed to watch it with Dana and others for her birthday celebration.  My roommates filled in for me the missing storyline bits that I didn't quite catch.

Maybe skip the next three paragraphs if you don't want possible spoilers (a la Miranda's blog, haha.  I skipped those paragraphs on her blog, actually, but hopefully I remember to go back and read them after I watch the movie)

Iris mentioned the scene where the dwarves are making fun of Bilbo for seeming homesick, and he gets angry and responds, "At least I have a home."  And then Bilbo realizes what he's said... that the dwarves have lost their home to the dragon and no longer have a home.  But later, when Bilbo has the ring, he tells them that he's going to get their home back for them (man, look at that allegory!).

That "At least I have a home" really struck with me.  It reminded me so much of the Luke 15 skit that was done earlier in the morning about the Story of the Prodigal Son.  At one point, the sister is talking to the Older Brother in the story trying to convince him to not be bitter about his Younger Brother and she says something like, "At least you have Dad."

Surprise surprise, I teared up about this too, and really reflected on how at least I have the Father and how everything He has is mine too, but there are so many others out there who don't get to have any of that.  I might feel like I'm slaving away for the Father and begin resenting Him, but He has so much and He's given so much to me.  I just can't.  And then there are so many who need Him, but don't have the chance to hear about Him or be with Him.


So I committed to long-term missions (which is 2+ years, and I also committed to mid-term, 1-2 years, but that's not too big of a deal compared to long-term).  I read this really enlightening article in the Atlantic about God's Surgeons in Africa.  The need in other countries is so great.  We might have a dearth of 90,000 physicians by 2020, but some countries' need is just ridiculous.  For Sierra Leone, a country with a population of 6 million (so think Houston and L.A.), they have just 9 surgeons.  NINE.  The WHO's recommendation is 1 for every 20,000 people, so they need about 291 more.  But it's crazy to think that a population the size of Houston and L.A. could somehow only have 9 surgeons.

Whether I end up in healthcare and/or language documentation/Bible translation (something I really looked into as well and talked to a bunch of people about at Urbana), we'll see.  But I can't live a "normal" life anymore.  I think my idea of a "normal" life (spouse and kids, posh lifestyle in suburbia) probably shattered freshman year, with me coming out and having to wrestle with celibacy at 18 years old.  That's not "normal." But I suppose I was never meant for that kind of life.



Some other memorable quotes from Urbana.  The following are just short little snippets--these seminars have many more interesting ideas, but I'll leave those for another time since they require slightly more explanation.

From the seminar, "Unengaged People Groups:  Who Will Be the First to Tell Them?"

Not sure about where God wants you?  "Put your "yes" on the table and let Me put it on the map."

You will be the reason you don't go.

If you're worried that you're not doing God's Will in something, the truth is that if you do nothing, you will be outside the will of God

If God really doesn't want you to go overseas, He will stop you.  After all, He stopped Paul from going to Asia twice and sends him to a man in Macedonia (probably just so that Paul doesn't try going a third time).

From "The Experimental Orientation:  Life in a Slum"

(Michelle Kao has spent most of the last 5 years living in a slum in Thailand and working with the house churches there)

Remember:  We're working with God.

A lot of the times when things begin to fail, we think, if I give of myself more, maybe it'll work.  But that just becomes about you

It's not about doing things for God, but about doing things with God.

Michelle referenced this article that found that if you feel like you are excluded, you are more creative in your responses.  (REALLY INTERESTING.  Is this why there are so many LGBT people in the arts? http://www.pfenetwork.org.uk/nfer/publications/NES01/NES01.pdf)  In relation to slums, what kind of creativity and innovation can come out there?

"Human nature will not flourish, any more than a potato, if it be planted and replanted, for too long a series of generations, in the same worn-out soil.  My children have had other birthplaces, and, so far as their fortunes may e within my control, shall strike their roots into unaccustomed earth."

--Nathaniel Hawthorne

God wants you to grow.  To strike out on new ground.  Not for your good abilities.

Names I Like

Boys

1. Noah
2. Adrian
3. Gregory
4. Micah
5. Darren
6. Paul

I'd like my first two boys to be named

Noah Adrian Wang
(peaceful [possibly long-lived, comforter, or wanderer], from Hadria [wow, boring...])
or
Noah Gregory Wang
peaceful [/long-lived/comforter/wanderer], watchful/vigilant

and

Micah Darren Wang.
(who resembles God, great)
or
 Micah Gregory/Adrian Wang depending on what I don't use for the first boy

maybe a third would be
Darren Paul Wang  (whoa, really similar to Dillon's name)
(great, small)


Girls

1. Madison (son of the mighty warrior)
2. Desideria  (much desired [Kevin tells me that kids with abnormal names will do worse in school, and are less successful at life... so maybe not as a first name at least.  =(  ])
3. Adrian...?  (from Hadria)
4. Lydia...?  (from Lydia [*yawn*])

Madison Desideria Wang?

that might be too many syllables...

can't really find girl names I really like... maybe that's because some of the boy names I can see myself having, or are names that I'd love to be called, but for girls... hm.  Not really partial to anything.

I wish I could be a Noah or a Micah.  Gregory/Darren are too similar to people I know or know of, but they could work well as middle names (hence my first two boy names).  I don't really see myself being an Adrian though, but I saw that name recently and was like, Hm, I like that.