Songs of Pain and Hope

The daughter tells me she doodles in class. I am not surprised. She is like me. We do not like school. She is bored. When she was in kindergarten, her teacher repeatedly had to talk to us about her behavior. She would disobey deliberately affer being told not to do something like sharpening her pencil. She would do it in front of everyone. 

One time when she was in a daycare in Chicago, she woke up from naptime and started jumping on her bed. The other kids, who had never met her before, joined her. I told this story to one of the investigators who I supervised, a former uniformed Secret Service agent and he said she was a leader. 

She is truly my daughter. It runs in the family. My recently deceased uncle was almost expelled from elementary school. How you accomplish that is beyond me. 

When I was in the equivalent of 6th grade in Malaysia, I had a special seat in the classroom – right next to the teacher. I was naughty. I rarely tell people this, but I got suspended for fighting in middle school. I picked a fight with a bigger kid to make a point. Lost but got bothered a lot less after that incident. 

I think these experiences helped me to stay true to who I am and what I believed. 

During my first week in law school, there was a panel on how to handle the pressures and challenges of a legal education and career. I distinctly remember this senior professor telling us the following – that many of us entered the profession to do good and seek justice but that also many of us would take higher paying jobs initially instead of lower paying ones that could potentially impact people more directly. He said we would justify this decision by saying that once we made enough momey, we would then do the original job we set out to do. 

He then said something that has stuck with me ever since. He said it would be too late, that we would have changed too much by then and could not go back to what we used to be. He concluded with the following – no matter how handsome or beautiful the person we go to bed with, we still have to face ourselves. 

It is so true. 

Janis Joplin and Henri Nouwen, two individuals as far apart as could be, echoed similar sentiments. Joplin, one of the greatest blues singers of all time, and Nouwen, a renowned priest and thinker, said they would entertain or minister to thousands but go to bed alone. 

Haunting. 

I made sure I would try to avoid that fate. That I could sleep with myself. I didn’t doodle much in class. I scribbled song lyrics and immature poetry. I did repeatedly draw this picture of me facing a mountain range with a guitar strapped to my back. And I think this is how all the above ties together. 

I listened to my heart.

I didn’t want to play someone else’s game. I wanted to be myself, no matter how weird or awkward I was. But here might be the punchline in all of it. I was much steadier and grounded than most imagined. I carried many. Hidden as usual but not to everyone. 

Here’s my heart. 

It is mended, torn, but still powerful and true.

I have no idea who Taylor Swift. I confuse her with Kelly Clarkson. The daughter knows her though. Regardless, I try to bond with her over music, including and especially Queen. 

Outside of my too 3 bands, Queen has got to be a solid contender for fourth place. I’ve taken her to two tribute band concerts and she has a lot of fun. She is a funny girl, she bobs up and down when she dances. You can tell she’s my daughter. When she was young, she memorized the lyrics to We Will Rock You – not just the chorus but the stanzas as well. There is a video of her playing on her toy drum set while singing it out loud.  It is adorable and hilarious. 

I could identify with Freddie Mercury quite a bit. He was an outsider and hidden in many ways. He wasn’t even British, born in Zanzibar, his original name was Farrokh Bulsara. Secretly gay, he hid that from many. His parents did not approve of his career as a musician. 

Queen songs can be quirky but also underrated in their wisdom and profound meanings. I find many of them powerful, especially the quintessential Bohemian Rhapsody and The Show Must Go On, a defiant and courageous song about staring anything in their face – sorrow, great pain, even death. 

The one song, however, that truly stands out is one that doesn’t get as much airplay or attention – Love of My Life. It  is about Mary Austin – his former girlfriend or fiancée, I can’t exactly recall her status. 

She meant the world to him before he embraced his homosexuality. She took care of him during his last days when he was dying of AIDS. He left a significant portion of his estate to her and she is the only person who knows where he is buried. He felt safe and comfortable with and around her. I think they understood each otter. They loved each other through it all. 

She was truly the love of his life. 

 I think you are mine.

U2’s With or Without You is my all time favorite song of all time. It’s been this way since college. Many think it’s a love song and in some ways it is but not in the way one would think. I read an interpretation of the song’s true meaning and thought it made perfect sense, even taught it to my Sunday School class. 

There are three characters in the song – the singer (I), a woman (she), and a “you” – whom as the title describes, who the singer can’t live with or without. The interpretation I read and agreed with says that the “You” is Jesus or God and the “she” is sin. You’ll see what I mean. 

See the stone set in Your eyes 

See the thorn twist in Your side 

I’ll wait for You 

Through the storn we reach the shore 

You give it all but I want more 

And I’m waiting forYou 

And You give Yourself away

(Jesus’ power and sacrifice) 

Sleight of hand 

And twist of fate 

On a bed of nails she makes me wait 

And I wait without You 

My handa are tied 

My body’s bruised 

She’s got me with 

Nothing to win 

And nothing left to lose

(Sin’s power) 

The song has always spoken to me because it illustrates he struggle to follow and believe in God – how difficult it is to live with or without Him. 

In some performances, they sing the following verses – We’ll shine like stars in the summer night, we’ll shine like stars in the winter night. I love it when they add those lines – to me, it’s the presence of grace in all the struggle and conflict. 

And sometimes, also these from a Joy Division song – Love will tear us apart again. That is a very bittersweet song as it highlights the dual nature of love. Joy Division’s lead singer also killed hinself after a tough relationship. If you watch the music video, you can see and hear the angst and pain in his voice. It is absolutely heartbreaking yet beautiful. 

U2 often closes their concerts with 40, based on Psalm 40, written by David. This is also one of my favorite songs. I’ve been quoting the lyrics since young.

 I waited patiently for the Lord 

He included and heard my cry 

He lift me up from out the pit 

Out of the miry clay 

He set my feet upon a rock 

Make my footsteps firm 

Many will see 

Many will see and hear

I will sing a new song 

These lyrics are powerful as they show that God is the one who rescues us. When I look back, He has done that. I don’t survive my unstable, messed up family, Third World birth country, immigration, power driven DC area, inadequate community, law school in the middle of nowhere, being a DA in one of the toughest, most dangerous cities in the US, my in laws, a volatile PhD program, the UN, the NYC experience, and the greatest hurt to date – without God’s presence. 

Yet, U2 sings the line – How long to sing this song? It’s again bittersweet in its crying out to be rescued, saved.  

I wait patiently for God. 

I wait patiently for you.

U2 is one of the three bands that have heavily influenced my life. The other two are Pearl Jam and Led Zeppelin. All point to something beyond this existence – mysticism, the eternal, hope, grace, God. I like other bands too but these have played a consistent role in my  life. I call them the soundtrack of my life. 

The four members of U2 met when they were teenagers in Ireland. When they first started playing, you can tell they weren’t the greatest musicians. A musician friend said that their whole was greater than the sum of their parts. They were really raw and undeveloped on their first albums. Their bass player can barely keep the rhythm and his parts are relatively simple. The guitar player isn’t a classic rock guitarist, he rarely plays solos. But it all works because they are friends who have gone through so much together – death, illness, addiction, breakups, life. 

And God. 

Their guitar player once said that they were below average musicians that asked and allowed God to give them their songs. It shows. Their songs are transcendent. I remarked to a friend that God touches their songs and their songs touch God. 

I feel the same way about many of the special moments in my life – teaching, casework, advising, even playing guitar and sports. I was special not because I was talented or worked hard but because I invited and allowed God in. 

Presently, it’s my writing. I wrote close to 80 poems over the past year.  Also more than half of the more than 600 pages of collected writings. Each poem is different. When Led Zeppelin wrote Stairway to Heaven, one of the greatest rock songs of all time, it took them 14 minutes and they said it felt like a higher power was holding the pen. 

I know I’ve already mentioned most if not all this before. But I think this is about something else. A friend asked me what were the common themes in ny writing. Off the top of my head – faith, hiddenness, justice, searching, wanting to be known, valued, loved, etc. 

But I think the main theme is the presence and faithfulness of God. I had to go through a lot and I often ask why. I don’t understand it all but I think it’s more than just getting through just for the sake of it. Maybe it’s about receiving tools to do something. Maybe it’s character. Maybe it’s something else. I don’t know. 

For now, it’s about writing to and for you. 

Truthfully, I don’t understand art all that well. And definitely not yours. I would to learn why you create what you do and the process, meaning behind all of it. I spent hours in art galleries pretty much clueless. Frankly, I barely understand music too. And even writing. It just comes to me naturally, I don’t think I know all the grammatical rules. Again, I don’t think these are my words. I’m not that good. I still ask God to tell me what to write you. 

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.  

I met up with a pastor last year and he said God writes His story.  At first, I felt this was too fortune cookie like but after I thought about it, makes sense.  I think my fear was that He would write one with me as a doormat.  I didn’t need to be the hero, that’s not me but not a doormat.  

But that’s just fear talking.  God is a good storywriter.

The words I think about a lot are hope and surrender.  I can point to how trauma leads to gifts and growth, etc. Thats all true but it’s still cold comfort.  I can also think of happy moments and smile but that’s also not it.  For me, it’s about trying to surrender all to God and see what He makes of it all.  The hope is He will do it well, better than any human can.

The first love asked me what makes you wake up in the morning.  I had some guesses.  It’s a good question for all of us.  If we are honest, I’d venture that many will not say God.  We will point to kids, work, a spouse, something else.  But it is supposed to be God.  And it’s not just in some holier than thou theological reason.  It’s because it’s also practical.   No human can meet all our needs, understand it all.

With humans, you can touch, hug, more audibly interact.  I miss that. But humans also   hurt and disappoint.  God doesn’t.  

I don’t relive what has happened without pain.  But it’s a good reminder why I cannot go back nor do I want to.

I miss having someone to share my life with, wake up next to, etc.  

But it also has to fit.  No one is perfect but there has to be a baseline of love and trust. 

The hope is that God provides exactly what we need.  And can surprise us.

This will sound so churchy but if both people are walking with or toward God, it’s more sustainable.  I didn’t want a preachy girl who adheres only to the hard line taught at church.  I wanted someone who would think independently.  But again, there needs to be a common denominator – in this case, the important concept of faith. 

At the end of it all, do we believe that God is bigger than anything we face, have, or want?  That is such a hard sell and I know I didn’t buy into it fully.

God pointed you  out.  A strange unexpected point but makes sense after thought.  You are not the source of light.  God still is. One of the consistent themes in the writing is hiddenness.  I did it a lot at school, work, home, kids, marriage.  This was due to many reasons.  It had consequences.  My son is a lot like me.

Sorry if this is repetitive but it’s important to me that at least some know.  Because pretty much no one did.

The saddest were those supposed to be closest.  To me, I did many things quietly.  It was generally my style.  But I could also be up front as well.  Just after a period of apparent nothing.  I surprised people a lot.  True of most if not all of the major life events. 

You have many details others d.  I hoped you could piece it all together.

Many people in my field eventually leave. The brutality takes a toll. But the mistake some make is to jump into something different to the point where they miss out on what was good prior. DAs that go into private practice often find it unfulfilling. Cops too. They miss the sense of purpose. And brotherhood and sisterhood. 

One of our Chiefs killed himself when he was about to retire. He had no family. A huge pension in the millions.  We will never know exactly why he did what he did. But I’m going to guess it had something to do in part with losing the NYPD family. I also used to have this recurring dream in Boston that I would return to my old DA office. It wasn’t realistic or practical – the elected one I served under was good and ethical but the following ones were sent to prison or impeached. But i think this showed something deeper that I desired. To belong and to live for something higher than myself. 

The first love said she felt like I had something to prove. She is right, but not in the way many people thought – that I needed to prove people wrong. That interpretation was far from the truth. I think it was more about proving myself right. Maybe it wasn’t even that. Maybe it was about letting God prove Himself right. I wasn’t ambitious but I dreamt. In the midst of chaos and turmoil, I dreamt. 

Lately, I’ve been thinking of what fate and destiny mean. The words sound the same but I think they mean different things. I can’t pinpoint exactly what and why. Fate feels like things that were going to happen regardless. Destiny feels like the true purpose underlying fate and I think oftentimes it is good. 

She also asked me what music and books you liked. I could generally tell what your favorites were. And some of yours artwork. I do not regret marrying. She changed my life in good and bad ways. That’s how the university works at times but I think it all balances out in the end. We take it all – the joy and the pain. 

 She was fate. 

 I think you are destiny.