simply homemaker

For some reason, I have always expected life to be hard.

Ever since I was young, I have had distinct memories of when life was hard. Like when I scored much lower than my friend in a mock entrance exam into middle school (I know, it’s crazy). That actually got me studying super hard and ended up in the advanced class with this friend, who became my best friend throughout middle school. Or when my dad had a heart surgery. Or when I went to our kitchen pantry, and we didn’t have enough rice for everybody for dinner that night. Or when I had to help my mom write her job application to a new bank.

Something about growing up in very hard circumstances taught me to not take no for an answer. That there is always a solution. That there will be a way. That I can always try harder.

Until when I was in college, where trying harder did not work, and I didn’t see a way.

Everyone around me wanted to have 4.0 GPAs and be an investment banker. People started dating and even sleeping around. I didn’t know what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I was taking MBA-level classes as a 19-year-old and the honors program I just got in was talking about taking us to New York to visit the big firms, banks, and start-ups. I had heard the Gospel but suddenly it seemed so unrealistic with everyone’s expectation of what my life was supposed to look like, including my own.

I used to tell people that this period of my life felt like I was walking in beautiful shoes but my socks were slowly sliding off my feet. No one knew and everything looked fine on the outside. But deep down inside I knew so clearly something was wrong. And no matter how much I looked around me for answers, there seemed to be no way out of this emptiness.

The Lord protected me from much harm that semester, but I started to feel this desperation for more, for something this world does not offer.

So one day, miraculously, He saved me. In the darkness, stars shine most brightly.

Life has never felt the same since Jesus. I now am even more confident that there is always a way, but not because of my own strength or how witty I am going to be in any situation or how hard I am going to try.

I can rest.

I’m telling you this story because I think from the outside it still looks like I have a hundred things going on. A full-time job, two summer classes, seeing friends everywhere, family overseas, and a hundred things I would sign up for like helping a friend or reading through a book. I look the way I did when I was a sophomore in college. Always doing something, always busy, always planning 6 months ahead.

But now there is a deep knowledge in my soul that I am not my own. And I cannot tell you how freeing it finally is to finally let God be in control, inviting Him to be Lord.

Yes, I can prepare. Yes, I can think ahead. Yes, I can plan. Yet:

 “The heart of a man makes its plans, but it’s the Lord who directs his steps.”

God directs my steps. How crazy is that?

He does not leave me nor forsake me. In good times. In bad times. In times where it doesn’t make any sense.

I think arriving in this heart of acceptance is the ultimate place we ought to arrive in. Like in the book of Job. Like in the story of Mary. Like in the story of Esther.

How freed her heart must have been to say: “If I perish, I perish.” How much did she have to trust her God to know that even her perishing is in His will?

“I am the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done to me as You will.”

I just came back from one of the most memorable trips I’ve ever been on. I spent 4 days in the San Francisco Bay with my friend, Ronnie, whose history and memory of San Francisco is richer than anyone I’ve known.

We biked across Golden Gate Bridge and visited the lighthouse where his oldest daughter, Christina, got married two years before she passed away. We were the last people who were let in the lighthouse that day.

We went into the bookstore Christina used to go to and the dumpling place she took Ronnie once.

We ate amazing meals throughout the city and drove to a little Italian-inspired town called Sausalito, where I had one of the best tagliatelle I’ve had. We drove back home in a convertible Mustang, eating hazelnut gelato in the San Francisco misty fog and full force seat warmer.

We watched Princess Diaries 1 on the way to San Francisco. If you haven’t watched that movie, it was my first introduction to this hilly city and one of the best movies ever made. We watched the second movie on the way home.

We drove 1.5 hours to a little charming lighthouse called Pigeon Point to spend the last night. We got dinner in the town nearby at a local restaurant, watched the sunset from the hot tub (while eating a pecan roll with milk), and heard about how the lighthouse works from a man who drives 1.5 hours a day to explain that to people.

I got on all four flights to and from San Francisco on standby, which in itself was a miracle.

The whole weekend was an undeserved blessing.

I don’t think it will ever go away. The knowledge that life is always going to be hard. But knowing that so deeply makes these little moments of pure joy so memorable.

I came back from this trip fully satisfied. If I never travel to a new place in the U.S. again, I think I would be fine…. Maybe?

This week, I’m staying here. Working. Doing school. Maybe making some food at home, seeing a couple friends, going to church. Jumping into the pool with my best friend, cleaning my car (finally), enjoying being in Texas.

There’s so much in life to be thankful for!

Even when life is hard.

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”

Love,

Tram