Growing up as a first generation Asian American to immigrant parents, a lot of barriers stand between me and my parents. It’s hard to love them with language, cultural, and schematic barriers in the way – in addition to the crazy things that have occurred these last few years. But the barrier which hurts the most is the inability to share with them the fullness of my life because so much of it is faith-rooted and they have no framework to understand it.
So they cannot rejoice with me in the triumphs and transformations compelled by faith. They cannot pray for me in the dark valleys or scorching deserts. They cannot understand my time commitments or my career path. They cannot fully understand the things that bring me joy or break my heart. And most of all (as Chinese parents) they cannot “be proud of me.”
But I rest my hope in the foundation of Christ, hoping that one day they will know and they can be proud of me.