Monday, March 1, 2021

 

Kuv Puj (My Grandmother)

Every visit to grandma’s house on Friday or Saturday night mostly ended up with my siblings and I begging to sleep over.  1 out of 10 times, my parents would agree.  We were still very young, because this happened at the apartment on Harvey.  All of us (uncles, aunts, siblings) had spread out on the living room floor, each with their own blanket and pillow.  After we were all suppose to go to sleep, there I was – wide awake and freezing.  My grandmother had woken up to drink some water, or something, but it involved her going to the kitchen.  And in the sea of children, she noticed I was awake. So, she walked over and asked why I wasn’t sleeping.  I told her I was cold and the thick blanket was not keeping me warm.  I had folded the blanket in half.  She said I should open it, and to lie in between the layers, and not put both layers on top of me.  The ground was cold and it was taking my body heat.  I was desperate and tired, so I did what she told me to do.  It worked, because I had fallen asleep to the sound of whatever she was doing in the kitchen.

At a young age, my parents taught us that whatever our grandparents asked of us, the answer had to be yes.  As we grew up, our sleep-overs at grandma’s house became an opportunity to pick produce.  Grandma would often wake us up to pick strawberries with her.  Even when we weren’t sleeping over, she’d call my mom the night before and get us to go.  My mother gladly dropped us off at the farm to keep our grandma company. At this particular farm, you would pick the strawberries, placed them in a palette, and then move the palette to the end of the row to indicate that you had completed the row.  Grandma was kicking all our butts when it came to stacking those palettes at the end of the row.  Finally, we saw my mother’s car coming to pick us up.  Since grandma was the adult in our group, they gave our share to her to give to us.  We just wanted to go home and told her to keep it.  She insisted that we worked hard for it and to use it, but we traded that mere $40 to be able to leave.  She often picked produce in the summer heat and inside green houses. Grandma worked hard, and she never complained.

Grandma did so much for us.  I have lost count of how many times she would come pick us up from school, to drop us off at home.  We knew that if we called her, she would come.  She “tried” teaching me, Foua and Bat how to kill a chicken when we were 13.  It took all 3 of us to do one chicken.  We put that chicken in the bucket, so proud of what we had done.  She looked at us and said “it’s not dead”.  And right after, that chicken’s head popped right back up from the bucket.  She had to do it as all 3 of us sat there and watched.  I never did learned how to properly kill a chicken.

Grandma's laugh was soft and quiet (unlike grandpa's).  I visited her with my daughter who was a little over one at the time.  We walked inside her home and she looked at me and asked, “Is that May Lee’s baby?” I said “No, she’s mine, puj. I sent you a Christmas card with our picture”.  She laughed and laughed and said that my daughter looked so much like May Lee.  May Lee always gets mistaken for being one of my grandmother’s daughters because May looked so much like grandma.  My heart is happy because in a way, that means Aubrie has hints of my grandma's physical features.


My grandmother’s walk with Christ was very intimate.  It was between her and God.  I recall her whispering hymns because she didn't know how to read, but wanted to worship with the congregation.  She rarely talked about her faith, instead, she showed me.  She faithfully attended church most Sundays.  I credit her and grandpa for my love for God.  They were fine examples of good servants.  She did God’s work quietly, never boasting for the world to take notice.  I had learned of how she served others recently and I am so proud.  She is still teaching me, showing me what it means to be a great woman of God.      

My grandmother was the second woman in my life who I could truly depend on.  Growing up, I always knew that if I needed her, she would be there.  When I was a child, then going through my teenage years, and well into my adult self – her affection towards me never wavered.  She was constant.  

I will miss the way she would tell me to visit her whenever she saw me in town.  I will miss the sound of her laughter, the smile on her face, and I will miss the family gatherings with her that were always at her house.  The distance and this pandemic definitely took away time with her. But, I will appreciate every moment I had with her. 


Tuesday, July 23, 2019

Be A Match w/ Be The Match

With Elaine & Chris at Hmong MidSummer Night 07.20.2019

Back in 2005, I walked into the cafeteria at work and saw a group of people gathering for an event.  Being curious, I walked over.  A person was there with Be The Match.  He went over a need for bone marrow donation, how it can save a person who has blood cancer/disease, and what I could do about it.  I was sold - I got swabbed, and I was entered into a registry.

A registry where any doctor can go into and check to see if their patient who has leukemia, lymphoma or any blood cancers has a match.  A match that can cure them from their disease.

Earlier this year, scrolling through social media, I stumbled upon a story of a mom who was documenting her journey.  Her journey of twin baby girls born; already so loved.  But, one of the babies suffered from Shwachman Diamond Syndrome.  She wrote and pleaded for any one to register with Be The Match - to match up with her baby, to save her child, so her new little bundle of love can come home.  My heart was instantly touched by the mother's plea.  I reached out to her and shared her story with my family/friends.  Still, I felt this deep tug in my heart to do more.

You can read the story here (please copy and paste): https://www.facebook.com/susie.l.vang

Soon after, I saw that vendors were needed for Hmong MidSummer Night, and this tugging became a fire.  I reached out to Be The Match, and soon enough, Elaine (Sacramento Blood Source rep) contacted me.  I contacted the mother of the twin girls to give an update, and sadly she gave me an update as well. Yensu never made it home.  She had passed the week before.  This fueled my fire even more.

Bone marrow donation - now more so, stem cell donation is as easy as opening your mouth, rubbing a cotton swab over your cheek, and mailing in the specimen.  It's even easier when you're at a drive!!

Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity.  1 Timohty 4:12 NIV

"For I know the plans I have for you", declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11 NIV

I hosted a drive with the Hmong MidSummer Night event on July 20, 2019.  I got a lot of stares, some interested parties, and two mothers came by to thank us for being there.  One of the mothers has a sick baby, who may need a donor soon.  Her (Caucasian) and her husband (Hmong) were not a match for their baby.  We added four more people to our 30 million strong registry (total for the night was 5 - one was Caucasian).
The real heros.

See, I am doing a new thing!  Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?  I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.  Isaiah 43:19 NIV

Yes, 30 million people are registered with Be The Match. Unfortunately, Asians are the least represented.  With only a 30% chance of a sick patient matching their own family member, bone marrow/stem cells are matched by ethnicity.  Meaning, since I am Hmong, the person I will save is Hmong.  My marrow/cells will NOT match any other ethnicity.  Truly "hmoob pab hmoob".

Recently, I've seen a lot of GoFundMe accounts of Hmong people, suffering from blood diseases, asking for money to assist them as they try to battle their illness.  The diseases are real, and they affect all of us, whether we think it does or doesn't.

So, please .. if this speaks to you, please sign up here (please copy and paste): 
https://join.bethematch.org/s/landing?language=en_US&gclid=CjwKCAjw4NrpBRBsEiwAUcLcDJC74ct7ug1_rUgic0N6DGbxt6WTfsJ5_zPwToeR-hXXyNAWsBqt4hoCXR0QAvD_BwE&ref=marrow17&utm_campaign=google_paid&utm_medium=cpc&utm_source=google&utm_content=sitelink_join_the_registry

Wait for the Lord, be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord. Psalm 27:14 NIV

Any questions .. let me know and I can answer with what I've learned.  I stay idle, waiting to see if I will ever get that call.

Monday, February 11, 2019

Two Babies: Two and Under

We were blessed in September 2016 when our little girl came into this world.  We then welcomed our little boy this pass December.  Coming home with him and settling in, I felt like my little family was complete.

My husband returned to work.  My sisters and sister in law went back home.  And here I was with my toddler and new born.  Life hit me, and it hit hard.

I was planning on breastfeeding, my milk had come in.  But, I lacked the patience to teach my new born how to feed.  I had no patience for my toddler to adjust to sharing her mother.  I found myself in a dark space with two little ones needing me to be at 100%.  I shared my feelings with my husband and sister.  Their words of encouragement and their concern for me was heartfelt.  I figured it was enough to help me get out of this dark place.  But, my heart needed more.

Motherhood is a journey.  Every day I choose to be better for my babies.  But, the baby blues were harder to push away this time around.  I needed more to help me get through this.

And he said to me, My grace is sufficient for you: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.
2 Corinthians 12:9a
Grace and peace be multiplied to you through the knowledge of God, and of Jesus our Lord.
2 Peter 1:2

I looked at my children and had no desire to take care of them.  And, knowing that - mom guilt set in.  I felt awful for not wanting to do the very basic for them.  I knew I needed more than just myself to get pass this.  So, I lean on God's strength to get me out of bed, to love my children and to rest when they did.  With God's help, I didn't beat myself up over the fact that I felt what I felt.  I knew the feeling was temporary and that it would pass when my son got older, when my daughter adjusted, and when my hormones balanced itself. 

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you: not as the world gives.  Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.
John 14:27
I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me.
Philippians 4:13

It definitely was a day to day battle.  Maybe, more so an hour to hour battle.  But, it got easier each day.  Before I realized it, I no longer was concern about being by myself with my babies.  I knew I could handle them alone; they were not going to be "too much" to take care of.  My son is now 2 months old.  He is such a big boy and brings me so much joy.  My daughter has adjusted to sharing me and she is so helpful in throwing away diapers.  I no longer feel this sadness when it comes to taking care of my children.  I am a confident mother of two.

My life is a beautiful blessing.  I have a great support system with a great husband, a wonderful family loving on me, and with a Lord giving me that extra strength/courage/assurance when I need it.

Thursday, February 7, 2019

My Women of Faith

As a little girl, I remember watching a video with the women group from Santa Ana singing the songs from the red hymn book.  It was a home made video; nothing fancy.  Just a recording of each lady, holding a microphone and singing.  We had the video on often in the house.  I remember adoring the ladies who were dressed in fancy gowns, with flowers in their hair and praising.

As the years have gone by, a few of the ladies are no longer with my congregation.  The few that are active members are much older, and the years have worn them down.  But, their faith shines through.  Nothing had dimmed their light.  They encourage the younger ladies and they have so much wisdom to share.


She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue
- Proverbs 31:26

Returning back to LEC, and sitting among the ladies of the congregation - getting to know them - has really opened my eyes to the fellowship among them.  There is no gap between the older ladies and the younger ones.  We speak openly and have learned to criticize with love and care.  They are ready to share God's love.  Their testimonies always proves that God works in wonderful ways.  God always knows what I need to hear, what I need to learn, and what I need to do.  He sent them to me to be that voice, the people to keep me accountable with my faith.

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a women who fears the Lord is to be praised.
- Proverbs 31:30

Last term, I was selected as fundraiser coordinator.  I wanted to be used.  And, I did the best I could.  This term, I have been elected as President of the Women's Department.  I'm nervous, but I have an awesome team with me.  I believe we are all burning with this desire to serve our Lord.




 

Wednesday, October 24, 2018

Kuv Yawm (My Grandfather)

My grandfather was a man of few words.  In fact, he probably never spoke to you if it wasn't going to build your life up in some way.  When he got sick, I began reflecting on what he has meant to me.  My heart broke with his passing.

My grandfather never told me "I love you".  Instead, he would always say "we love you (Peb hlub koj)".  Because when he spoke, he spoke for the entire family.  No matter what life decisions we made, good or bad, no matter how we felt about the family or even how we felt about him, he was determined to remind us that we always had family - we were never going to be alone.

My grandfather was a man after God's own heart.  He always loved being outdoors.  He had lived at the house within the church property and his main job was to tend the church.  Every day, he would water the grass, prune the trees and pulled those weeds.  And he had this passion to get rid of the ground hogs.  We always followed him around as he did those things.  He never complained, he did it diligently.  Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter.  Working with his hands, tending the church property was the gift God had given him to serve.  Pastor Fred had announced his passing to my congregation.  He recalled my grandfather as the one who kept the church outside appearance brilliant and alive.  The church had planted a "friendship tree" that symbolized the friendship between our 13 churches, and it was only after my grandfather had left that the tree was no longer tended to, thus wilted and died.

My grandfather was a fisher of men.  He may have not reached out to many, but he lead my mother to becoming a Christian, therefore implanting the seed in me.  The seed that would make me the Christian I am today.  I am a follower of Christ, a believer.  All because my grandfather's rock was his faith.  And now, my faith is my rock.

The church had this beat up van that he would drive around early Sunday morning to collect any members that did not have a ride to church. Service began at 9, and he was always on time.  Punctual, to make sure the members were not late.  And, he would drop each one of them off after church has ended.  My grandfather began Sunday bright and early, and ended it some time well into the afternoon.  He did this for years.

I have been blessed to witness the greatness that is my grandfather.  In 2004, without hesitation, he helped me through one of the trails I would face in life.  Without any notification, I showed up at his door step and said, "Grandpa, come with me to figure this out?"  He gathered his things, and said "let's go."  Driving there, he said very little.  Just the basic, "let me do the talking".  We arrived, and as we sat there being criticized, getting ridiculed, my grandfather never rose his voice, never said anything to offend anyone.  After an hour, he just simply stated my needs and wants.  Another hour goes by, and the same response from my grandfather.  I observed his calmness, his eagerness to listen, the humbleness that makes him HIM.  After all said and done, we were invited to share a dinner with the ones who spent two hours giving us a piece of their minds.  I was done and ready to leave, but my grandfather smiled and joined them at the table.  I sat there and watched as he laughed about simpler days in Laos/Thailand.  Nothing negative ever phased my grandfather.  After dinner, we left and he simply said, "This has passed.  No more dwelling on it, no more talks of it."

I hope I can be able to express his calmness, his grace, his mercy to others.  He voiced his desire to have his family "sib hlub" when he is gone.  I will remember this and I will fulfill his last request.

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Aubrie Grace's Mom

As I sit here, towards the end of May, I am thinking about what my very first Mother's Day meant to me.  Mother's day was filled with breakfast with my family, a beautiful service at church, and a surprise cake and flowers from the husband.  I applaud his credit (and my brother in laws for helping).  It is not simple for my husband to express his love for me in that way.  He's not the romantic, "sweep her off her feet" kind of person.  He shows his love every day.  But, that's another subject.

"By the grace of God, I am what I am." 1 Corinthians 15:10
I have been so bless to have the title: Mom.  My daughter is the light to every thing and anything dark in my life.  I prayed for her, cried for her, demanded the Lord for her; and at last, He answered and blessed me with her.  I am to love her, take care of her, and guide her.  I eagerly do so.

"She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue" Proverbs 31:26
Now that I am a mother, I find myself more observant of the mothers I know.  I mentally joint down things I see that I want to begin doing, things I should say to my daughter as she gets older, easier ways of doing something, and at the same time, things I definitely shouldn't do or say to my daughter.  I can learn from others and their mistakes.  I am more accepting of mothers giving me advice as well as criticism.  I take no offense because I am a first time mom, who is bound to make my own mistakes, and really do need all the help I can get.  I am bless to be surrounded by so many moms who loves my little girl so much.  I see how they tend to her, play with her, and love her.  My heart is full.

Mother's Day comes around once a year, but for me - every day is Mother's Day.





Sunday, January 1, 2017

My Bin of Hmong Clothes

For the pass 15 years, my mother has been slowly adding to my collection of Hmong clothes.  Not just mine, but all of my sisters as well.
Some outfits, she bought and some she has sewn with her hands.  Typically, she would dress my sisters and I in the outfits, and afterwards, we would give it back to her to store for us until the upcoming Hmong new year.  Half way through 2016, she bought bins and put all our outfits into the bins and said we were to keep the Hmong outfits ourselves.
I didn't think much of it.  I moved into my home, and placed the bin in my closet.  Come Christmas, and the ladies at church suggested we wear a Hmong outfit to church.  I dust the lid of my bin and opened to find two outfits I didn't know my mother had placed inside.  Two outfits that I either forgot I had, or maybe my mother never mentioned to me before.
Most girls only have one Hmong outfit from their mother.  And here I was, with seven.  I suddenly felt the love my mother has for me.  Sure, we some times hug, and from time to time, she'll ask if I'm doing okay.  We are not very vocal or affectionate kind of family, but as I went through my bin with admiration, I knew my mother love us.
Maybe before the year is up, I'll dress up and post up the outfits my mom has worked so hard in gifting me.

Thursday, December 15, 2016

My Yellow Ribbon with a Heart on it.

If you ever see a yellow ribbon with a heart on it, it simply represents the person left behind by some one who committed suicide.  A yellow ribbon alone is worn to represent suicide awareness.

Suicide is something I never thought would happen to my family.  And yet, it has occurred twice.  The ones left behind are left shocked, hurt, and wondering if there were anything we could have done to change the situation.

"and call on me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you will honor me."
Psalm 50:15 (NIV)


Ahlia Her (Amy) ..

I will remember the little girl giving me hugs whenever we visited.  I will miss your witty conversations and your  aspirations to making a difference in this world.  I'm sorry we failed you.  Although you are gone, may it serve a reminder for me to love my family a little deeper, to take a second look at anyone and let them know I will pray for them, to be braver in asking those questions I was too afraid of knowing the answers to, and to hug every one a little longer.  May God open my eyes to see the signs I've missed, to have the courage to overstep imaginary boundaries I might have thought were there, and to present myself in a manner that those who needs help, can see that I am the one to give it.

Sunrise: May 22, 2001 ... Sunset: Dec 02, 2016

A song from her older brother:
https://youtu.be/gUoTQ7EGs28

Prayer & Suicide Prevention:
1-866-TO-JESUS (865-3787)

National Suicide Prevention Hotline:
1-800-273-8255

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

Sept 4 2016

Sept 4 2016 @ 1932.  God has blessed us, and we are finally parents.
It was quiet in the room, and I'm laying on the table.  I hear a suction noise and all of a sudden, my little Aubrie Grace cries.  Yes, my eyes watered and I eagerly wait for her to come over the blue drapes.  They place her on my chest and all I could think was, "how did you fit inside me little person?"
She is perfect.  10 long fingers and 10 long toes.  Her eyes blinked and she was looking at me.  No crying and no fussing.  Just lying there eyes glued on me; my eyes glued on her.  I fell in love with this little person; promised her the whole world in that split instant.
My new title: Aubrie Grace Suab Naag Saetern's mother.

Sunday, August 28, 2016

Growing up Christian and returning back to LEC

One day, when driving to the bay area, my hubby and I began a deep discussion of what it was like to grow up Christian and the effect it has had on us then and now.  We compared our childhood, our experiences growing up with very different experiences, and how those times molded us to the Christians we are today.
I am born into a Christian family.  By 1982, my grandparents, my parents, most of my uncles, aunts, and cousins were Christians.  I have known no other religion, except for the few times I was exposed when my mom's family and some of my dad's family would hold their shaman gatherings.  Growing up, I was always surrounded by church activities, church going people, and my youth memories are filled with events with other fellow youths from other Lao Evangelical Church (LEC) churches.  Most Sunday mornings consist of an understanding that I had to get up, get ready and be at church by  9 a.m.  Our church had 3 main youth activities during the year (church camp, convention and a sport tournament).  There were always little things in between the three events, like leadership, fellowship with other LEC at different cities, and fellowship nights with the youth group.  Christmas and New Years Eve were always spent at church.  When the weather got warmer, Friday consist of practicing for the sports tournament.  Because we had "older" youth members, they planned wonderful fellowships for us to spend time and to grow in our faith together.  We were busy with church, but I like to believe that it was something we all looked forward to at the end of the school week.
My husband's story wasn't anything like mine.  He doesn't have an extended family, and only his parents and two other siblings (including their family) attend church on a regular basis (from when we first began dating).  He shared about his family "not fitting in" at churches they attended and never having the pressure to "have to" attend church.  His mom began attending the Salvation Army church, and she would always ask the kids to attend.  He did from time to time, but never consistently.  He never had the desire to follow Christ.  Sure, he prayed, but only when he was struggling.  
When we began dating, I took him to Capital Christian Center because at the time, that was where I attended.  An English speaking church made it easier for him to begin building his relationship with Christ.  He love the Pastor there, and the congregation is welcoming.  They have ushers and greeters; something I think he needed.  I love the church as well, but deep down it was never "home".  
So, after getting married, there was this tug in my heart to return to LEC.  Finally in November 2015, I began my first steps at returning back to LEC.  At first, it was hard for my husband, but it has definitely gotten easier.  He speaks Hmong well enough to get by, but definitely not enough to truly understand and comprehend sermons or hymns.  But, Pastor Fred and Rev Wang Lue has been very welcoming to my husband and it puts him at ease to join.  The younger fathers in the mens group there also helped a lot with making my husband feel like a part of a congregation.  He especially loves the youth group, who he feels he fits in with very well. For my husband, it's relatively new.  As for me, I have a history with LEC and grew up knowing the elders and the dynamics of the church.  It was much easier for me to walk in and feel welcome.  The women group there has been super supportive and very accepting.  They welcome me with smiles and warmth.  LEC is home. 

The Story of Noah

Most Sunday, the ladies at church do bible study for about an hour.  We were studying day 9 (Dabtsis Ua Rau Vajtswv Zoo Siab Luag-Ntxhi), and we studied Noah.  The whole time we are discussing this section, I can't help but feel that the "Noah" in my life was my little sister May.  As we continue to read and discuss the section, I began to more and more connect my little sister May with Noah.
May Lee "Hli" Moua
But Noah found favor in the eyes of the Lord.  (Genesis 6:8 NIV)  You see, about 10 years ago, my family stopped attending church.  Each one of us sort of fell wayward with our walk with Christ. Speaking for myself, I began internalizing my own faith.  I no longer had this desire to physically attend church.  I mean, I still prayed, I still sang worship songs, and I still considered myself Christian.  I just didn't attend church.  And, it took about two years for me to go back.  But, not to Lao Evangelical Church (LEC).  I attended Capital Christian Center.  It was what suited me for the time being; I was there, but not actively involved.   But May returned to LEC and she returned with a passion.  She held positions within the church and she put one hundred percent of her heart into God's work.

Noah did everything just as God commanded him. (Genesis 6:22 NIV)  We discussed when Noah was being ridicule by strangers and his own family for building God's ark.  Thoughts of when May was serving the Lord and the church, and all I cared about was that she was absent from my life and our family events came to mind.  When she was working and spreading God's love, all I saw was that I, and our family was not her priority, but rather her last priority.  I wonder how alone May must have felt, to have no support from the people who were suppose to be the closest to her.  Who would help her grow in her faith when we unknowingly only dragged down her own faith?  May not only continue doing God's work, but she buried herself more and more in it the more we (the family) pushed her to stop and "just spend some time with us". 

And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.  By his faith he condemned the world and became heir of the righteousness that is in keeping with faith (Hebrew 11:6, 7b NIV)  May continued building her faith without us.  She faithfully served with very little complaint.  She gave up a lot of worldly experiences/things and put her focus on building her faith.  She was building her home up in Heaven. She loved us, but loved her spiritual walk with God even more.  The perfect example of what Christians should be.  God wanted to wipe out the human race, but Noah was the saving grace (Genesis 6: 6-8 NIV)  In keeping her faith, May was my saving grace so that God did not abandon me or our family.  He shown favor to us because He still had that one person who faithfully followed Him.

Friday, March 18, 2016

Baby Saetern

Yep, that's baby Saetern.  Well, when baby was 12 weeks old.  Baby is about 16 weeks old at this moment.  Baby is already a cutie, and I'm already losing sleep just staring at the ultrasound pictures.  Hubby and I are grateful, we are excited, and we are completely in love with baby already.  But, it wasn't always like this.

I remember when my twin told me she was pregnant.  And, although I was so happy for her, I was also so sad for myself.  At that time, I had been trying for eight months.  I understand there are others who try for years.  But, at that moment, I was disappointed.  I remember that night, before going to bed, and praying, asking God why I had to still wait.  When would it be my turn?

But, as soon as those words came out of my mouth, I also felt this guilt.  You see, for the first 3 months of trying, I was praying for a baby.  One day, I realized a baby was in God's timing.  So after that day, I began praying for God to comfort my husband and my heart as the months went by, to give us patience for each other (because trying can definitely cause a strain in the marriage), patience for our miracle, and to open our minds to understand that He would give us a baby when we were fully ready.

And at that moment, during my first true trail, I failed.  How could I ask for this miracle, and I still could not trust the Lord's timing?  I repented.  I began to pray even harder for patience and understanding.  I recalled what many of our pastors have preached about; pray for what you want until He grants it to you.  So, we continued praying.  

In December, I was already two weeks late, so I figured I should try the pregnancy test.  I got a negative result.  Thinking, and hoping I was ovulating late, I used the ovulation strips, and they kept coming back with an error reading.  A week went by, and the ovulation strips still read "error".  Yes, I was frustrated and cursed the ovulation test strips for being cheap (bought a whole bunch off Amazon).  I shared my frustration with my twin, and she (always knowing what to say), suggested I take another pregnancy test.  And, here it was ... the moment I had been praying for.  A positive result!  I texted my hubby the picture of the test (he was at work), and sent the picture to all my sisters as well.  The hubby called right away, and I could hear the smile he had on his face in his voice.  I'm sure he heard mine as well.  It was a beautiful belated Christmas gift.



Friday, August 7, 2015

"Like"

Maybe I'm overly sensitive.  Maybe I've out grown my immature ways.  But lately, the "friends" on my Facebook page have been liking a lot of post, pictures, and videos that I find a bit disturbing and/or sad.

Someone had recorded a young man being arrested by the police for what appears to be a DUI.  All awhile, this young man seemed like he was talking nonsense, dazed, and maybe he was confused (I say this because the officers were nonchalant about cuffing him and the person wasn't resisting).  I watched for a few seconds, and I could tell that that moment could very well be his lowest point in life.  People left judgemental comments, horrible comments, and although I didn't read all the comments, no one left a prayer comment.

Is this how we (society) will live? Condemning, judging, and adding negativity to our World?  Kicking a person down during his lowest moments, being happy about someone else's misfortune and bad decisions?

Maybe I'm overly sensitive.  Maybe I've outgrown my immature ways.  But lately, I can no longer ignore the fact that things such as this does affect me.

"Heal my heart and make it clean, open up my eyes to the things unseen, show me how to love like you have loved me, break my heart for what break yours."
-Hillsong Hossana

Friday, June 26, 2015

Speak Hmong

A part of my relationship with God has to do with praise.  Whether it be an "Amen" posted on social media, a conversation with a friend, a Christian concert I'm attending, or me singing along with KLove in the car.  I find praising enjoyable.  It's even more enjoyable when I'm praising in my native tongue.
Two years ago, while digging through my glove compartment, I found a cassette.  It had Hmong worship songs on it.  Flashbacks of my youth came, and I felt a closeness with God that I haven't felt since I was actively involved in my youth group (15+ years ago).
In my daily life, I speak English 80% of the time, and it's what I've grown accustomed to.  There are no reasons why I need to speak Hmong.  If I do speak Hmong, it is only to those I'm closest with (family, a few friends and to my husband), and usually about something serious.  I began to wonder if I should pray in Hmong. 
To me, praying is a serious matter.  So, I change the language I conversed with my Lord.  Singing in Hmong, listening and telling testimonies in Hmong and praying in Hmong is so intimate.  I am more humble, more forgiving, more aware of my own faults.  I am more at peace, more accepting, and definitely feel more whole now that I pray in Hmong.  And, trust me.  It takes me much longer to pray.  I'm more thoughtful in my wording.  But, who wouldn't want to spend more time with God?
The time I spend praising in Hmong enforces my passion, my belief, and my bond with the Lord.

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Happy Mom's Day



Mrs. Chue...
There is no one who would fight harder for me, inspire me more, or love me the deepest than my mom.  She is the rock in my family.  She is always thinking ahead, and always prepared for anything life throws her way.  She definitely made me who I am today.
My mother is strong in every way.  She never backs down from anything, and she always is the last person standing when it comes to hard work.  
She always knows what to say to comfort me.  Her words are always so meaningful, and I know I'll recall what she has told me years from now.  
And yes, I am still very much afraid of my mom.  But, who isn't ever really?  I am afraid I will disappoint, so I strive for more.  Her happiness is my goal, and I will do anything for her.
I know she will always be on my corner, loving me even when I'm wrong, and never doubting the woman she raised me to be.
Mrs. Nai ...
There has been no one sweeter, no one kinder, and no one as patient as my mother in law.  She speaks Hmong well enough that I understand her, but there is still a language barrier.  She never hesitates to converse with me about anything. She is always ready to listen.
In the five or so years I have been with her son, she has never made me feel as though I am not worthy enough.  She welcomed me with open arms since the very first day.  I am truly blessed to have her.  I wouldn't trade her for the world.

Friday, April 17, 2015

To My Uncle

My dearest uncle,
I am so sad that I could not tell you these things when you were here.  But, my heart is content because I know you can hear me.
I think back to all my memories of you.  My first memory of you is when my grandfather, my father, and some of the uncles went night fishing in 152.  We had gotten there right before it got dark and were getting ready to set up our place to sleep for the night.  I remember you digging a hole on the side of the small cliff.  You stated that it was where you were going to sleep.  You seemed so thrilled about the idea too.  You dug and dug, and before dark, you placed your sleeping bag inside.  I do not know why you wanted to sleep there, but when we all woke up early the next morning, you were still there, inside your self made cave.
You enjoyed your life and lived it as such.  You were the first person in our family to get a tattoo.  We were visiting, and you came home with a girl on your shoulder.  When I asked you who she was, you didn't know.  You just thought that she was so pretty.  Silly uncle. 
You loved cars, especially American muscle cars.  When I think back to you in your younger years, I think of you driving around in your black car.  Oh, how the girls must have loved you.  You loved pit bulls, and ignited our family to love them too.  I love how cousin put it.  "If you knew Simba, you knew Uncle."  He was your son before you had a son.  He was graceful and strong; just like you.
I recall back on my immature childish ways.  You were always on our case about something, and we nick named you dragon breath.  With all the spats, you were always the first to place your pride to the side and apologize.  Maybe never verbally, but always with your actions.  When we were younger, you and my sister had gotten into an argument.  My father was visiting North Carolina, and would not be home for another week.  But, as soon as he got home, you were there no longer than a minute after.  You had brought over two chickens.  We had dinner together.  My father said that was your way of apologizing.  Many people say you had a temper, but they failed to noticed that you apologized just as quickly as you angered.  And that you forgave others just as quickly too.  I can honestly say no one in our family is like that; just you.
I will always remember your silly grin and your goofy humor.  I will remember our last conversation.  God planned it so well.  I rolled down my window and yelled out, "hi uncle!"  You and your catch phrase, "hey girl".  You asked us where we were going, and I said to grandma's.  I invited you over, and you said you'd come.  I am blessed that our last conversation was a happy one.  I am so thankful that we had those few seconds to chit chat.  
I will recall all the memories we've shared.  I will miss you forever Uncle.
 

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

My Family's Beautiful Tradition


My family have been Christians since they were still living in Laos.  When they moved here to the States, my family adopted new Western Christian traditions and kept a few traditions from the hmong culture.  
My uncle passed away two weeks ago, and he was not a strong follower of Christ.  My grandparents were preparing for a Hmong Christian funeral, but also included my uncle's wishes at the very end of the funeral.  (I did not and do not object, as I wanted my uncle's wishes to be granted, and as the funeral was not my own).  Hmong Christians do not beat a drum, or play the "qeej".  Instead,  we have a service, sing hymns, and prayer.
One thing my family has kept from the hmong tradition is the act of bowing or "pe" for any monetary gifts from friends, other family, and even strangers.  It is a sign of giving thanks to those who donate, and is done by the male family members.  There is a little announcement which includes the name of the person, the event (funeral of person), and the donation (money/gifts), and at the end, a saying that lets the men know that they should bow.  I sat up by my uncle and watched as the men from my family bow every time someone donated.  At one point of the funeral, the bowing went on for an hour straight.  Talk about leg day.  But, they all did it without complaint for 3 days.  I am proud of my uncles, my cousins, my husband, my brother in laws, my father, my brothers, and for the men who has yet married into the family (but will, hopefully one day soon) for stepping up and carrying through. 
It is an act done in funerals, but as well as weddings.  I don't know the proper way of bowing.  But, my cousin (who practices Shamanism) tells me there is a slight difference from bowing in funerals and bowing in weddings.  I can only recall her saying that the arm/hand gestures are different. 
The funeral went well.  God blessed and protected the funeral so all went within our favor.  The Hmong Mennonite Church was gracious enough to prepare our meals for my family and our guest.  My family is truly bless to have them.  For everyone who came to support us emotionally, physically and financially, thank you.  
"Ua tsaug rau nyaj tshav ntuj." 

Thursday, March 19, 2015

His and Hers

God has guided our path individually and then guided our journey to each other.  The Lord blessed our union, and I became Mrs San Nai Saetern on March 08th.  Almost five years in the making, we became one.  I feel bless to marry a man who loves me more than I could ever describe in words.

It's been almost two weeks since that day.   Here are our thoughts on the first five minutes of our ceremony:

His: I am not nervous.  The music starts, and I began my way to the front.  I see our family.  I am happy.  I see all my groomsmen, her bridesmaids, our boys and flower girls come down the isle.  My heart is filled with so much joy.  Here she comes, and there she is!  She is so beautiful that I begin to cry.  I am going to marry her.

Her: I am not nervous.  The music starts.  Here they all go.  I'm in the back of the line, waiting with my two brothers to walk me down the isle.  We get there, and I'm just really glad I didn't trip in my high heels.  I start down the isle and I take a look around.  I see my family; I see his family.  And, I see him.  He's crying!  Why is he crying?!?  I begin to get emotional, so I look down.  I hear my twin say "look up", which I do, and I am there, beside him.

Everything went right.  The weather worked perfectly in our favor.  There wasn't any crazy wind, no in and out from the sun, and I swear I heard birds chirping.  It was a fifteen minute ceremony, but felt like five.  I held his hands 95% of the time.  I looked into his eyes and felt completeness.  I see all his guys behind him, each with tears in their eyes.  My ladies shed a few tears as well.  His family was in tears as soon as the music started.  Mine, sat there (lol .. my family and I, we do not cry).  My vows were short as I was trying to not get emotional.  His were meaningful.

God is good all the time.  All the time, God is good.


Photographer: Pretty Geeky Photographer (based from Portland, Oregon)
Make Up Artist: Mao Vang (MAC Cosmetics)
Hair: Kelly (Prive De Salon)
Wedding Ceremony held at Shinzen Japanese Garden in Fresno, Ca
Dress:  Maggie Sottero (style: Francesca)

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Pray for Strength

Today is the first day of the new year, and truth be told ... I haven't had real time to reflect on 2014.  But, going through my old pictures on FB, I came across this quote from Bruce Lee.  I don't recall to why I posted the picture; I didn't go through any hardship in 2014.  But, none the less, the quote is a good one. 

Life has given  me a few bumps in the road for me to grow.  I learned about how emotionally strong I could be, how I didn't die without certain individuals in my life, how I can move on pass anger and/or resentment, and how I've grown after all the pain and disappointment.

2014 has been great to me.  I shed tears of sorrow and tears of joy.  I've welcomed a new brother in law, and a new niece.  On the same day I attended my first "The Piano Guys" concert (LOVED it!), my boyfriend became my fiance.  I made the move back to my old work place and was greeted with smiles.  I am so proud of my sister for finishing nursing school.  I got to celebrate my mother's birthday on a cruise with 90% of my family.  And, I'm sure if I think extra hard, I can recall all the "not so happy" moments of 2014.  But, who would want to dwindle in that.  

God has continued to bless me.  He gives me strength.  With His guidance, I am blessed.


Friday, December 12, 2014

I Know Who Santa Is

My family didn't have much growing up.  We were considered the lower working middle class.  My parents made enough to pay for bills and feed us.  My parents did a great job hiding the fact that we had very little.  Our Christmas season was usually spent at church, and I never expect gifts.  But, when I was in the 6th grade, I came home to our very first Christmas tree.

I was so excited!  We hung lights that played Christmas carols, we had this huge bright star at the top, garlands of green and red hung from every branch, and the smell of pine danced around the living room.  We even had a few Christmas gifts underneath the tree.

Growing up, I never believed that there was a Santa Claus.  I don't ever recall asking my parents why Santa skipped our house every Christmas.    But this year, with a tree and gifts, I asked where my present came from.  My mother was very open and honest with me.  She explained that she had put all our names on a list at the local Salvation Army, and they put our names on a star, which was hung at the local shopping centers.  Some one picked my name and bought me a gift.

I am grateful for that some one.  Because of the kindness in their heart, I was able to experience a Hallmark Christmas; to feel that joy of opening gifts with my siblings Christmas morning.  I remember what my gifts were.  Three books (which probably lead to my love of reading) and an overall pant (which was way too long for me, but I wore the overalls until freshman year in high school).  My mom signed us up again for another year.  She never told us; we just came home to a tree, and gifts.  I am grateful for my mother.  In every circumstance, she is so resourceful.

Now, it's my turn to spread the joy.  To bring the same kind of happiness and warmth into another person's life.  I am privilege to be able to do so.  When I have babies, I will tell them that there is no Santa Claus.  They will know who gives them gifts, and who they can give gifts to.