Roots: A Communal Journal

Lord help us. Trigger Warning: I will be writing about trauma, Orientalism, patriarchy, and the objectification of women. Also, I might swear. I was eight years old when my best friend at the time said, “My grandma hates you and your whole family because you’re Asian.” I don’t remember what I said, but I’m sure I either laughed it off or changed the subject. If I had a dime for every time I held space for whiteness at my own expense... I was twelve years old when I learned that “some boys really like Asian chicks,” but not the ones that were too fresh off the boat, or who smelled weird. I made a mental note of all of this, and went immediately to the mall to buy Love Spell perfume. I was fifteen when I was told that I was part of a triad of other Southeast Asian girls that “boys with yellow fever liked” and that they would often just “rotate between liking each of us.” Jenn Fang does an excellent job of defining Orientalism so I urge you to read her post if you’re unfamiliar with the...

 Jesus said that "the love of money is the root of all evil." It sure is a good thing that I don't love money. It's impossible - I give too much of it away, after all. Recurring payments to church and charity. Examine my budget and giving statements - you'll see. My mailbox is full of prayer letters and ministry updates. I don't need to read them to know my donations are making an impact. And hey if you need support, just ask and I'll probably say yes. "Prayerful consideration" is just a euphemism others make for loving money (or not being as financially gifted by God as I am). Fortunately for me, "it's more blessed to give than receive", which is also why I give to the community without presenting my own needs. Obviously, I can't give it all away. God called me to be a steward of resources. Jesus did tell the rich young ruler to give it all away and follow Him, but commentaries say that's a specific command to the rich youn...

Tonight I am imagining the wilderness as dusk in the desert, while the sun shimmies its way down to the horizon, and all the living things slink away into the shade. The heat was almost unbearable today. Miles of sand in front of me, miles behind me. The sand, infinite. The effort of every step, quickly erased and replaced by teeming grains of the next. Yet sometimes I would close my eyes and for a moment, allow the sun to embrace me. In those moments, I could hear nothing but my heart steel-drumming in my chest, taste nothing but salt and air, and feel nothing but the beads of sweat poised on my skin's surface, ready to freefall straight into the sandy nothingness. For a moment, it was peaceful. But now, as the sun sets, the wilderness feels wilder than ever. The animals have gone home, and even the sky has told me, until next time , and there's still all that sand for miles and miles. The mountains looked interesting at one point, but now they are colossal, hulking things, wh...