Up Close and Personal
Brian's Epic: A Life Story

Introduction

My name is Brian and I am a Christian of 8 years. I was thrust into this world and weaned into young adulthood in one of the largest (this place used to be all farms) and safest (again, think of the farms) suburbs in the United States, Fremont, CA. Since 1991, I have been attending and serving at The Home of Christ Church in Fremont. I am currently a Senior at The University of California, Berkeley, majoring in Cognitive Science (huh? what's that?). At UC Berkeley, I attend the Asian American Christian Fellowship and am serving as the Core Coordinator. I am currently interning in the IT department of Bain & Company in San Francisco and after graduating, I intend to continue working in the IT field, but for a few years (emphasis mine).   After, I plan to continue to fulfill God's calling by going off to seminary to study to become a pastor.

The Chubbier Years

Like I said above, I was born in Fremont on May 29, 1979 in the Washington Hospital. My parents named me "Brian" because, they hate me. Just kidding. Ha ha. Actually, like the well-educated Chinese parents they are, they loved me so much that they spent endless hours in the library researching on which names correlated with the highest degree of success (measured by annual salary, probably) and synthesized that data with which of the names seemed most unique. However, as life goes, I was only one of many "Brian's" born that day. But I am highly successful and make millions of dollars a day. Oh, thanks, Mom and Dad.

I don't remember too much about my childhood. After I was born, there was this long period I'd like to call The Dark Ages because I don't remember anything from those years. I don't know what my earliest memory is, but I do remember things like dressing up in my blue and white plaid suit and bringing my Mickey Mouse camera to the hospital to see my new baby sister Christine (now 17, but don't any of you guys even think about touching her till she's like 40). I remember waking up early in the morning and picking my nose. I remember falling off of my bed and getting bloody noses. I remember my mom giving me funny hair cuts. I remember positioning myself in a "karate kick" formation in my bed before I fell asleep. I remember my brother Donny (now 15, but too late, girls...he's got more than he can handle) crawling around baby butt naked on my parent's bed. I remember my grandmother cooking dinner for us every night and calling me a good boy for eating 5 bowls of rice (but then seeing me lying on the sofa in pain and confusion, unable to see my feet beyond my bulging stomach).

New Friends, Old Times

I still remember meeting two of my best friends in junior high, Chris Tom and Cliff Chen. Chris was real annoying because during P.E., he wouldn't stop jumping around and calling me "Hui-Hui". Meanwhile, Cliff was the nerd of the class, never showing any emotion, but always getting good grades, reading stupid Dragonlance paperbacks, and wearing sweatpants. Sigh. These are the best friends I've ever had.

Through the years, I've also met people like Paul Lai, Mike Lo, and Brad Krack. One thing that I always love to brag about is how during my senior year in high school, we'd all meet every Wednesday, usually around midnight (since we were all so busy), and we'd just usher ourselves into the presence of God in spontaneous prayer and praise. No sharing about our week. No formal schedule. We'd just lock ourselves in a room, turn off the lights, and just offer ourselves up to God.

The Call of God

I still remember one night when my zealous friends were in the middle of a frenzy of spiritual warfare. I told my mom about it and she quickly but kindly rebuked me, telling me to think realistically and rationally. But what I remember the most was for some reason, out of that conversation, she said very firmly, "You know, Brian, I don't want you to be a pastor." "Mom, not all Christians become pastors! I don't want to be one," I responded. This happend circa my Freshman year in high school.

Little did I know that the call of God would grip my heart the very next year. I had to eat my words. But it didn't matter, for who can escape the call of God? It took me four years to learn this lesson.

Since then, I've had a heart to help people to know and love God more. Sure, a lot of Christians that aren't called to be pastors have this same desire, but mine was of a nature that I had a one-track urge to do that full-time within the church. But you see, that made me the weird one. It isn't weird to have a heart to help people, but it is weird to want to become a pastor. All my friends, they wanted to go into medicine, research, business, social work, computers. Me? I wanted to go into the ministry. I'll tell you truthfully, as much as my friends love me and I love them, I've always felt different. Abnormal. This came to a culmination during my sophomore year in college. I remember distinctly walking through the dark streets of Berkeley (that's to show how desperate I was). I was finally trying to run away. "God! Isn't there anything else that I can do? Go into counseling? Become another Chinese computer guy? Join the businessmen? Please?! This whole pastor thing, it makes me weird, different. Oh...God. Non-christians scorn me. Christians that don't understand patronize me." But you know, like I said before, it didn't matter. For who can escape the call of God? Deep down, there was nothing, absolutely nothing that I wanted to do more than become a pastor. Deep down, I knew, there was nothing else that God wanted me to do. I had no choice.

Now

So why am I here at UC Berkeley? Well, to be honest, my parents gave me no choice (I see a trend here). But I'm making the best of it. I've already brought a friend to Christ (which is a lot for a person who doesn't have the gift of evangelism), discovered my spiritual gifts (pastoring, teaching), and took on a few speaking engagements. I have a vague picture of what God has for me in the future, but how I'm getting there, He's chosen to surprise me with later.

Your turn

So what's your story? Let me know. I'd love to hear it.

I'm so tired. Please take me

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