If I had to describe my salvation journey with one word, it’d be unorthodox. The time and place I was in when I first encountered Christ were peculiar, almost perplexing. I accepted Christ when I was 13, in a season of unimaginable grief, at the wake service of my dear friend who succumbed to cancer. Grief is a funny thing—the pain is almost unexplainable, yet it makes you ponder the fragility of life. Even as time passes, the ache remains; a constant reminder of loss and one of the hardest pills to swallow. Amidst the sorrow, I witnessed my friend’s parents finding peace in speaking of his Christian faith before passing, and that was the beginning of my own journey with God.
Grief is a funny thing—the pain is almost unexplainable, yet it makes you ponder the fragility of life.
My life did not miraculously change overnight, nor did it become easier. As a young Christian in a Buddhist family, religion became a point of contention at home. It was as though I’ve unknowingly signed up for a lifetime of torment. Coupled with the turbulence of adolescent years, home became a place of torment Every day felt like a thunderstorm and I was running on a slippery slope. Looking back, I can see glimpses of the sun breaking through as my family began their own journeys toward faith, including my parents.
The most pivotal moment in my salvation journey came when I attended my very first CF camp, because that was where I met Dic Lun and Dic Yun. Their relentless efforts to invite me to Collective have shifted my mindset on what a church could be— not a traditional institution rooted in rituals, but a place to find your sense of belonging. After years of running alone, words cannot describe the comfort I found in knowing that He is running this race with me. Being rooted in this community transformed my knowledge of Jesus into a deep, personal relationship with Him.
Being rooted in this community transformed my knowledge of Jesus into a deep, personal relationship with Him.
On the outside, everything seemed perfect—I attended church and cell group regularly, but it was anything but. 2017 was the year I hit rock bottom. School pressures mounted; home wasn’t a place where I could take a step back and have a break from the toxicity. My everyday life became unbearable as I was grappling to hold on to my own life. Every morning, I would look in the mirror and struggle to recognize the person staring back. My mental and physical health deteriorated drastically but there was nothing I could do about it. My introversion kept me from talking about it because I feared the judgments of others. The only thing that kept me from ending it all was the thought of my mom’s heartache when she sees my lifeless body. Even in those darkest moments, I took comfort knowing that God sees the battles I’m fighting. Without a doubt, He heard my cries because divine intervention came in the form of faithful friends like Wei Shen and Evangeline, who reached out and provided a safe space for me to heal.
Even in those darkest moments, I took comfort knowing that God sees the battles I’m fighting.
As I kept myself busy with church events and ministry, everyone praised me for making progress. I too, thought I was making progress, but underneath the surface, I was burning out. I was running on fumes and sought affirmation, craved acceptance, and found none. Then the pandemic hit, and everything fell apart. I left Collective.
After countless lockdowns, the world began to reopen and I attended a Christmas candlelight service alone out of curiosity. In a full-circle moment, I bumped into Dic Yun. Our conversation really hit home and rekindled a sense of belonging I had forgotten I had in Collective.. Slowly, I returned to church alone every weekend; each visit reignited my love for this place I once called home. I used to believe that church was about seeking acceptance from people. Now I know that church is about my relationship with God first, which leads us to serve and love one another.
Now I know that church is about my relationship with God first, which leads us to serve and love one another.
If I had to describe my decade with Collective, I count it pure joy despite the ups and downs. I am a proud work-in-progress, closer to God than ever before. My relationship with my family has improved, and my health—both physical and mental—is on the mend. I am excited to take my next step and be the first in my family to get baptized. My father was over the moon when I told him. There’s no shame in having left the church before; what matters is that I found my way back to God and my community at Collective. Ten years here, and I look forward to many more decades to come.
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