I have a Malaysian accent.  It is my real voice.  I only truly use it with one person in this whole world – my aunt in Malaysia who helped raise me.  In some ways, she knows me better than most people.  A son of Malaysia forever.

We talk about family, memories, disappointment, and faith.  Sometimes, I tell her what I think about God in my darker, weaker moments.

That He is a fucking moron.

Weak, stingy, calculating, foolish, cowardly, a sell out, harsh, etc.

Until I realize that’s not who I’m thinking of.  Those are my relatives – especially some very close ones that you can likely guess who they are.

On a related note, I often wonder why my support network was so patchy and spotty even though I had to go through pretty difficult challenges.  It definitely wasn’t for lack of trying.  

I did.  

Sought out mentors, advisors, friends at every level and location – to very mixed results.  I listened intently and processed what they said.  There were a few gems,  but most were mediocre to awful.

The reason I think was to teach reliance and dependence on God.

My grandfather figure asked me what I wanted to live for – including the respect or adulation of others.  I replied not at all – that was an older, less mature version.  I’m no saint and I don’t really aspire to be one so I don’t get this perfectly right.

But as Easter approaches, we see how the opinions of people change rapidly.  One moment you’re being cheered as you enter the city and the next you’re hanging on a cross mocked by the same crowd.

I have a tight circle of people whose opinions I value.  Almost all of them have endured a lot.  They have lived.  The late pizza delivery for them isn’t the tragedy of the day.

Yet, it is still about the audience of One.

Very tough to believe and implement at times.  But I still think the correct path.