“Your F(f)ather loves you very much.”
These words have been ringing in my heart for the past week. The last few days I attended a Chinese Missions Convention in San Diego, where there were over 3,000 people ready to hear about the different ways God is working throughout the world. Although I’m Filipino (and actually 1/32nd Chinese, since my great-great-grandmother was Chinese), I was recruited by a friend to play keyboard for the worship team for the conference. Honestly, as I was driving down to San Diego, my heart was not very ready or open to go to a large missions conference. I was tired and sick, as I’d been struggling with quite a bit of anxiety a few days before the conference. I was feeling much better the actual day of the conference, so I drove down and just thought I’d make the most out of it.
This experience was the first time I’ve ever attended a conference of that nature – with two different tracks – one in Mandarin, and another in English – but this dichotomy resembled a typical Asian-American church with both first and second generations all in one place. The first generation immigrants wanted to retain their language and culture, while the American-born English-speaking second generation have different needs, growing up with Asian values from their parents, but also highly influenced by American culture. The second generation lived in a liminal, in-between state, as they had to navigate between two cultures – cultures which are sometimes at opposition to one another. There was also the challenge of trying to relate to the first generation immigrants, those of my parents’ generation, because the first generation still valued so much of the traditional ways of their homeland. Seeing the disparity between the two generations in front of me at this conference was an interesting eye-opener. It was encouraging that they had times of bilingual worship where both generations and languages worshipped together, seeing how worshipping one God can bridge the gap between the two generations.
As I reflected on my own experience as a second-generation Filipino-American, and of the struggles that I’ve had trying to relate to my immigrant parents, I was comforted in hearing the ways that this struggle is a shared experience among second-generation immigrant children. I also saw the ways that the first generation worked hard and pushed their children to excel out of deep love for their children. They wanted them to have better than what they had for themselves. Leaving the safety and security of their homeland, they sacrificed much to come to a new and foreign place and culture. All they wanted for their children was the safety and stability that they themselves did not initially have, and worked hard to eventually achieve. It made me appreciate their good and well-intentioned plans, and helped me appreciate the ways my parents worked hard for my behalf. It made me grateful for their love for me.
Seeing the ways that my earthly father loved me helps me see my heavenly Father’s love for me. I look back on the ways my earthly father provided so much for me, and how he loved me through his acts of service. Throughout the conference, the impression that I received as I interacted with different generations was that my father really loves me. As I played keyboard on stage and had the opportunity to worship with so many brothers and sisters, I was reminded that my Father really loves me, and that I am His beloved child.
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