My first 6 months in NYC were apart from my family in Boston. I commuted back and forth between the two cities on weekends – leaving on Fridays after work and returning on Sunday evening. 

The trips were exhausting. 

That winter was also one of the worst in recent years. It would not stop snowing and the temperatures would not rise above freezing, so the snow could not melt. The snow drifts piled so high on the sidewalks that you felt like you were walking between walls. One time, it was so cold that the Amtrak’s outer door froze open and I rode for hours in a figurative icebox. 

I lived in the Crown Heights neighborhood in Brooklyn. It was a predominantly black and Orthodox Jewish neighborhood. It was infamous for a riot decades ago when a kid was killed in accident. There are two children’s museums there – a Jewish one and the borough’s. There was also an adjacent park where shootings occurred. I did not like living there. There was nothing to do. I ate mainly Chinese takeout and fried chicken. One time, these three guys tried to pick a fight with me outside the chicken store. They thought I was stating at them when I was staring at the menu. Walking home everyday was an adventure. 

The job was pure chaos. I rarely mention it because it wasn’t a noble place. I made some good friends there and am proud of what I did there but am ashamed of what occurred there. It was a job that wanted to use my skills for nefarious self interested political purposes. I refused to be part of that. I’m no saint but there are lines that can’t be crossed. Nonetheless, the job led ne directly to the NYPD. 

While it broke my heart, I will forever be grateful and proud of my time and service there. Isn’t it something that the ones and places you love the most also hurt you the most? 

But I have very good memories of at least my 4 out of the 5 years with them. My work touched lives and history. For a kid from Malaysia and Maryland, it wasn’t a bad outcome. 

Recently, I realized how many difficult things I had to do alone. I think God not only allowed this, but also ordained it. I’m not totally sure why. I have some thoughts and maybe it was about Him demonstrating His faithfulness, power, and strength. Or to teach more if not complete dependence on Him. Sometimes I thjnk He tells me that what I’ve done and maybe will do would be impossible without Him. 

One of my favorites passages in the Bible is Psalm 23.   I memorized it as a child and when my daughter was a baby, I placed a copy if it in her bedroon. I was terrified of being a dad and I looked to these words for reassurance, guidance, and comfort.    

David, who wrote the Psalm, had to rely depend on God so much. So many people betrayed him – his king, family, friends, wife, his top lieutenants, even his own children.  

He has no choice but to turn to God if he wants to survive much less thrive. And God comes through despite allowing David to suffer. The suffering is his training to be a king. He is also a warrior, shepherd, poet, musician, lover, father, and so much more than an average man. 

David’s first wife is the daughter of the king. He goes through hell to marry her. The king requires him to kill 100 of the enemy. He kills 200. She is taken from him eventually and given to another man out of spite by the king. David gets her back later but he stops caring about her because she mocks his relationship with God. He cannot condone that because he knows who carried him through so much. 

David’s second wife is Abigail, the only woman in the Bible to he first described as intelligent before beautiful. She is arguably his best wife (he had six). 

Your name is sometimes used as the short form of Abigail. 

You are like her – intelligent and beautiful.