Criteria number two.

Things didn’t happen the way you intended. It wasn’t the right time. I suppose I was… am… too proud too-some part of me was always ready to unmask a hypocrite of some sort. I was afraid of how forthcoming you were, at a time I made clear I wasn’t ready, even though I silently admired your courage to put yourself on the line. I was too afraid of your forthcomingness to feel thankful for you then, afraid of how you made me feel, and where those feelings might take me, us. I wasn’t sure what it was you wanted from me. I was really stressed out. I almost felt I was being stalked, especially when we “bumped” into each other on my way home from taking Grandpa Zhou to the doctor that day. I just wasn’t ready. I set so many boundaries because I was so scared.

And it’s only recently, just in the past month, on my way home on lonely train rides from another long day at the hospital, that I realised, just how much you did for me, how far a distance you went for me, just to help me through and make me… happy. I realised, after having so many male buddies who enjoy making me the subject of their banter and teasing, that I cherished the fact that you made me feel respected as a lady from beginning till the end. You always defended, protected me, and made me feel beautiful. Even in the times I was dressed shabbily in my spectacles and big T-shirt and college shorts when you chose to pop over. Just want to pass you some CDs, it’s no big deal. You always said it was no big deal, like it was the easiest and most natural thing to do.

Tomorrow will be my first time performing in a concert playing the flute. I know you would have come if you could, or at least you would have prayed for me, told me something poetic which I could fix my mind on so I wouldn’t think about being anxious. But no one I know is coming to watch me, mainly because I figured everyone’s too busy so I didn’t ask.

Only now, I realise I’m thankful for the memories you left behind for me, for what you did for me. I still have that collection of beautifully written letters and lovely paintings. I realised, that you helped me learn a lot about myself too- of how impossibly judgemental I can be, of how I need to let go and trust God in this area of my life.

Last weekend was the first day I started talking about you again after so long- I realise, I have more to thank you for.

Aunty Ay asked me what “my Criteria” was. My answer surprised the both of us, because the way I prioritized certain things was telling.

” How come your Criteria that ‘he must be someone who loves me’ is Criteria number eight, not number two?” (Criteria one is to find someone who loves God.) “Don’t you think that’s far more important than all the other criteria you’ve placed above that? And maybe you should be more open to how God guides you instead of limiting God with all your other criteria?”

“What do mean ‘limiting God’? Isn’t it important to find someone with the same calling as myself? I mean, that’s what all the long-term missionaries tell me.”

” People will advise you based on their personal experiences. And maybe that’s their personal experience. I’m not saying mission work is bad, or that you should forget about it. I’m saying maybe you can review your criteria. After all aren’t ‘loving God’ and ‘loving you’ most important?”

“Yes, but so is having the same calling, right?”

“ Sometimes, God leads us to places we never imagined. Our callings for to serve the poor may be very real, but the context and the means may change. If you’re open to God’s guidance, He could take you to places you never imagined possible. But if you miss His plan for you because of your tunnel-vision, because of your idea of what medical missions or what your partner should be, then it would be a pity, wouldn’t it?

“Wait. So you’re saying it’s okay to be with someone who doesn’t necessarily want to be a long-term missionary in a developing country serving the poor? You’re saying I shouldn’t have a list of criteria, which is what everybody has been telling me I should have?”

Silence. “Well, Wai Jia.”

“Whoa, whoa whoa Aunty Ay. Now this is a first. Hang on for a moment.”

“I’m not putting down mission work. I’m just saying, be open Wai Jia. Keep your heart open. God sometimes has different plans for us. And we mustn’t miss His adventure just because we weren’t open to His leading us elsewhere. Why should you be afraid of liking Ophthalmology? What if He wants you to be an eye doctor instead of an obsetrician?”

And then tears began to well up in my eyes because it was then that I realised, that I could not put God in a box, because the unexpected always happens. And it was then that I realised, that maybe, I don’t trust God enough- hence, the many expectations and fears and fences.

I never expected to have met you. I never expected you knew exactly how to make me feel loved and beautiful. I never expected that you would want to do mission work as well, that you were even more artistically talented than me, that you were so much more knowledgeable than myself. And people ask me why it didn’t work out then. Well, I didn’t expect that it was the wrong time and in spite of it all, you were -still- the wrong person.

I never expected to take a fancy to Ophthalmology, because of how comfortable a lifestyle it provides, how technology-intensive it is, and how specialised it can be- all factors which aren’t mission-field friendly, or so I think. I like O&G (Obstetrics and Gynaecology) so much partially because of my impression of its usefulness in a rural setting.

But I forget, that far more important than the question of what I can do for God and the poor, is the question: God, what would you have me do? It never struck me, that perhaps, that question was far more important than all my other questions, impressions and fears.

And I forget, that far more important than all the list of Criteria I have, is the Criteria God has for me. It never struck me, that perhaps, being found by someone who loved me was far more important than all the other criteria like having to love the poor and mission work and having some sort of artistic sense and some sort of a theological degree… et cetera et cetera et cetera.

What if God never intended for me to do mission work in that sort of setting? What if I was meant to marry someone way out of my imagination? And what if I missed the purpose of my life because I was too busy trying to fit myself into the goal I had mapped out for my life instead of asking God?

Those memories you left behind for me made me realise that perhaps, Aunty Ay was right. And I wondered aloud if your love had done me more “harm” than good because you certainly set the bar far higher, and it would be an inevitable yardstick. To that Aunty Ay said, “No Wai Jia. He most certainly ought to love you that much.”

“Really?”

” Of course. You’re in a different place now and you’ve come a long way. ‘Being loved very very much’ shouldn’t be Criteria number eight.”

Till today, I’m confident that we weren’t meant to be. My decision is still the same, and I hope you feel that too. But sometimes, on public transport by myself when my moodiness sets in, I wonder if I’d ever meet anyone quite like you again. Someone who could love me in a way I could understand, who affirmed me with words, and who would come at a time I was more ready.

Lately I learnt, that perhaps, for all the Criteria in the world, the first two would have to be to love God, and to love… me.

Everything else, including et cetera et cetera et cetera, comes later.

I am learning, that it takes courage to be loved, and to love. I am also learning, that God works in unexpected ways. We cannot limit Him by telling Him too many specifics. Sometimes, we just have to let go and let things happen.

And I learnt, finally, that if someone like you comes along again, I think I just might be, a little more ready, to let him love me, and love him back too.

Trust in God with all your heart,

and lean not on your own understanding;

in all your ways acknowledge him

and he will make your paths straight.”

— Proverbs 3:5