I almost didn’t want to write this one, but it’s memorable for many reasons – 20+ years and I still can’t wrap my head around it.  I’ll let you decide.

This incident occurred in Indiana during the winter of my second year in law school.  I attended an Asian American fellowship hosted at a Korean church.

Another church set up a retreat held at a site several hours away,  I drove our group on a Friday evening.  It was snowing and Indiana roads are often dark. When we got to the site, the only means of entry was a one lane road.  It was night when we arrived.  The first event is a worship service where within moments, everyone is crying loudly.  

How do I know it was everyone?  Because the senior pastor pulls me up on stage in front of everybody and asks why I’m not crying.  I’m too tired to respond.  He then places his hand on my head and asks whether I feel anything – like a tingling.  Nope.  On my chest.  Nope.  Exasperated, he asks what’s wrong with me – I reply “I’m Chinese.”  He then goes “Oh, ok” and lets me go.

For the next two days, we are subject to what can be only described as emotional manipulation.  They feed us meals consisting of small styrofoam cups of instant noodles.  No showers or bunks, we sleep on the floor, overflowing toilets.  We get woken up early and kept up late for services.  I wanted to go home after the first day, but we were snowed in.

The pastor keeps trying to get me to give in.  Physically and mentally exhausted, I do.  But I’m the last one to break and I did not cry.  We Malaysians are tough suckers when we need to be.  I just made up some BS about having to let go and trust God more.  I may as well have been reciting Bernoulli’s equation.  That’s how much I wasn’t thinking at that point.

Thankfully we manage to go home.  As I recall, I play goalie in floor hockey that night.  It never felt so good to be alive and free.