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.

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.

"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

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.

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.

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.

 

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."