Danny ChaiI’m in the Tresidder Lair, using a DELL Dimension XPS P100c Pentium.
You know, Shadowlands had a really interesting line that I always think
about. His wife has just died, succumbing to cancer. And he’s been
spending insane amounts of time in prayer. And his friends tell him,
“Praying won’t bring her back, Jack.” And this is his reply:
I don’t pray to change God’s will; I pray that I may be
transformed.
That phrase just hit me and it’s something I’ve thought about ever since.
What is the purpose of prayer, anyway? I guess only Chi-Hua will know for
sure.
I just got out of Bio Lab. It was great today. We had a pizza party,
which is always fun. Anyway, I hate Biolab. It’s not just that it’s
difficult, but it’s the atmosphere. You know, Dave Hong is always
mentioning the Pre-Med thing, but it’s true. They are crazy people. Like
in Biolab, every person there is guided by two principles. One, they need
to do better than everyone else. Second, they need to finish their lab
earlier than anyone else. It’s a cutthroat kind of place. So everyone
takes everything they need and hog it for themselves, as soon as possible
because – 1) They need to start/finish first and 2) Someone else using it
before them might somehow contaminate it and ruin their experiment or
something like that. It’s just crazy. I hate it. Contrary to popular
belief, I hate that competitive atmosphere. It drives me crazy. So
basically I go, yeah, whatever, go ahead and finish first, and I let them
all do whatever they want to do then I go so I can take my time.
Which, incidentally, makes my experiments generally superior to every
else’s. For example, in the Molecular Biology lab, our group was the only
group to get valid results which we could use, demonstrating the inherent
superiority of my and my lab partner Valerie’s laboratory technique. So nyah.
Erik Nordhagen wrote his autobiography over Winter Break. Erik,
incidentally, claims to be the man who hates me most at Stanford. He
joins an exclusive club of 217 people who claim to hate me most at
Stanford. Anyway, he wrote his autobiography, and got it bound, and the
book just came in. He’s had a fascinating life, from what I hear, and I
can’t wait to read it.
Anyway, much of his motivation for reading the book was so that he
doesn’t forget what’s happened to him, as they are both memorable and
instructive. That made me think. I realize now that I barely remember
things that happened to me even a few years ago. Like my senior year in
high school, I lived with another family, while my family was in Houston
Texas. You can imagine that that was a really interesting experience. And
it was, but now, it’s just a blur and I barely remember any of it.
Which frightens me, you know? That would forget my past so quickly. On
the other hand, it gives me hope, that I might someday forget the hurt of
being denied Clarafanship. Someday, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next
year, maybe not in the next 30 years, but someday, I will forget that hurt.
I think that life is essentially suffering. I learned in high school that
this is a basic Buddhist belief; that when one comes down to it, life is
suffering. Basically, all man can do is try and keep himself busy, or
give himself a false purpose, to ignore that suffering, because if he
doesn’t it will smack him in the face.
Like so many times, the pursuit of something is far more significant
than the attainment of it. In fact, once it’s achieved, we realize that
it’s meaningless. The pursuit meant so much more, simply because it is
the pursuit, losing oneself in the activity, that comforts, not getting
the object itself.
Tell me this isn’t true. I see so many people who feel like they just
have to do something, because if they don’t, they are unhappy. And they
will be unhappy. People need activity to forget their inherent loneliness
and suffering. And that breaks my heart. Because I feel like so many
people are essentially lonely, and they won’t admit it to themselves;
they just keep trying to do more and more stuff to forget that they are
lonely. And they do forget, until the activity, the people are gone. When
they leave (like they always do) they come back to the horrible
realization that they are lonely.
Man, people just need Christ. Because I see that. Everyone just wants to
fit in somewhere, find a group to belong to, even if the ties are
superficial; the feeling of belonging is so reassuring. Even in the
Christian community, sometimes I feel like the fellowship aspect
overwhelms the individual relationship with God. I mean, it’s good to fit
in with a group, especially a group of Christians, and this is Biblical,
I think. But it shouldn’t be our all, our source of strength, whatever.
You know what I’m saying?
I can’t totally relate, either. But my man Leo has such a heart for
people. And the reason is because he’s a new Christian, and he keeps
saying that he knows the pain they feel. He understands, because he was
there, and not too long ago. Knowing how profound that pain is, how could
he ignore them? How could he do nothing? He can’t. He hurts for them in a
way I can empathize, but I don’t think I’ll ever understand.
But as children of God, we’re different. Our source of strength comes
from above, not around us. We don’t need to lose ourselves in mindless
activity, because when that is taken from us, we are left with the
foundation of our lives, Christ.
There’s this verse I really like. I can’t remember exactly what it is
but it’s in Isaiah. I think 53:13? Something like that. But it goes:
In repentance and rest is your salvation.
In quietness and trust is your strength.
I love that. In quietness and trust is your strength.
I fear that too many times people see me as a person saturated in
activity, and people. Like I’ve heard people say that they think
(falsely) that I know a lot of people. Basically, I fear that people
might identify me with this people-surrounding and activity thing.
I fear it because I don’t want people to think that I am just like
everyone else in this world – essentially lonely, such that I drown
myself in activity or surround myself with people. Because I really feel
like some people (not all) do this because their loneliness is so great.
But I want people to know that my strength, my confidence, my happiness,
doesn’t come from the outside. I mean, hanging with people is cool, and I
like it and all, but honestly, my strength comes from inside, from the
one who dwells in me, guards my heart. I want people to know that. I want
to be a loner, who does nothing, and yet has joy, because his joy doesn’t
come from the outside but the inside. And I want people to see that.
Because of people see me joyful with a lot of people, they might think
joy comes from being with a lot of people. But if people see that my joy
comes from inside, they might come to realize that their joy truly comes
from the inside also. They won’t find it anywhere else, but through
Christ. I wish somehow I could. Because I see people’s pain, and it
breaks my heart. Because they are so confused, and their looking for
happiness in all the wrong places. Why don’t you look into Jesus?
There’s this praise song that includes that Isaiah song. I think it talks
about the heart of God, and it’s a heart that I want to share.
I have longed to hold you in my arms.
And take all of your fear away
I will take your filty rags
And make them clean
If you’ll receive my love
If you will receive my love
So wait for me and hear my Spirit say:
In repentance and rest is your salvation
In quietness and trust is your strength
Yeah.