By Melanie Mar Chow

O Lord, you alone are my hope. I’ve trusted you, O Lord, from childhood. Yes, you have been with me from birth; from my mother’s womb you have cared for me. No wonder I am always praising you! My life is an example to many, because you have been my strength and protection. That is why I can never stop praising you; I declare your glory all day long. –Psalm 71:5-8 NLT

I am still amazed at God’s goodness being demonstrated.   In my continuous service to college students, I hear myself reminding students that I have experienced a lot of things. My words to them are not to give them anxiety but instead to rest and hold onto the proven hope we have in God.  I want to inspire confidence in them that His works indeed are good.  I have seen God work again and again, faithfully. February brings the reminder of the beginnings of my mom’s days on earth, almost 90 years ago.  How she loved the Lord and how her grandmother’s faith continues to live in me – from the days of her youth in an internment camp, to being a grade school teacher, wife, mother and in her last days of life, as a newly retired elementary school librarian who died of terminal cancer.

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by April Yamasaki

How confident are you about ____________?

I couldn’t get past that first part of the questionnaire. In fact I had already stopped listening after the first four words “how confident are you….” I’m sure the rest of the sentence went on about something, but whatever it was couldn’t hold my attention. 

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By Ajung Sojwal

Bamboo poles stuffed with marinated pork stood cooking around the fireplace. A cooking method dying in a world where folks have no time to mind the bamboo poles that need turning ever so often over a controlled fire. My brother-in-law had woken early to prepare the delicacy in honor of my visit after four long years of covid travel restrictions. How does he even know when things are cooked inside the bamboo poles? How does anyone know what the right time is for anything? I thought of the months that became years waiting for the right time to travel with confidence. Finally, three vaccine boosters later I landed to see my parents. They walked a little slower, spoke a little slower and my sense of loss was palpable.

When I got home to NY and met with my spiritual director, she asked, “How was it to be back home in the land of your ancestors?” I thought about the endless hours of not doing anything in particular, talking about everything and nothing in particular, visits with relatives and friends, gathering from one feast to the next. I thought of the jokes we laughed at as if it was still 1988, us siblings and friends laughing about folks and situations beyond our understanding. This time around, we laughed at ourselves. We laughed about how we feel betrayed by our aging bodies, we laughed about our mistaken beliefs, we laughed about the quirkiness of every family member and all the while, we waited, waited for the right time to mourn for our oldest uncle who lay speechless on a hospital bed surrounded by our cousins. A week after I said my goodbyes at the airport, the call came to say our uncle was gone. Even death seemed to have waited in respect of the long overdue visit to the land of my ancestors. How was it to be back home in the land of my ancestors?

I looked at the fading pictures of uncles, aunts, grandmas, grandpas, cousins, family weddings, funerals and plain old boring days scanned unto my iPhone and there I saw, a great cloud of witnesses cheering me on as I prepare to start my new call as Priest-in-charge of yet another church. Like bamboo poles stuffed with everything I love, cooking over a slow and steady fire under the watchful eyes of one who cares, I realize, I’ve been turned at the right time from consuming fires by someone. In the land of my ancestors, where I tasted joy, where I tasted honor, where I tasted sadness, regret and disappointments, I feel a love that dares to trust everything cooking within me to turn out just fine. Surely, this is confidence—to know someone is always there minding the fire around me…trusting. With my ancestors I pray, let that fire be the Holy Spirit, let that someone be the Body of Christ with whom I too dare to trust.

Ajung Sojwal has been called as the next Priest-in-charge of All Saints Church, Palo Alto, CA. She takes charge of the church on March 1^st, 2023.

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by Angela Ryo

A study done at Emory University in 2010 concluded that children who knew about their family history had higher self-esteem and were better able to deal with stress. When children knew their families, they had a strong sense of identity. Another study done at Emory University found that children who have a strong family narrative enjoy better emotional health. It’s hard to feel alone when you know that you are part of something bigger. When children know what challenges their families have faced and overcome, they are more confident to face their own challenges. They are better adjusted and more resilient.

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