Thoughts at 72
Peter Y. Woo, 11/26/2012
Q. What are your thoughts at 72?
A. Very thankful God let me live to this age. If you see me as a then sickly child in high school, you would have thought it would be tough for me to live beyond age 60.
Q. What do you think is your secret? Do you do any exercise?
A. Hardly. I swim 3 times a week, each time 250 meters. I swim like a drowning cockroach.
Q. Did your Daddy teach you to swim when you were young?
A. He did, but I was too dumb. Back then I could at most swim 8 yards, on the beach.
Q. I heard you take Chinese herbs?
A. Yes, and God gave us a doctor who was the Head Herbal Doctor in a big Hong Kong hospital before. He lengthened my life, I guess, by curing my hereditary high blood pressure since age 45. I am still taking vlood pressure pills daily. I also took some herbs that I think helps to clear blood vessels of fatty blockage.
Q. Tell us what they are, please, please.
A. I dare not here. Western medical friends and relatives would scoff at me. But I can whisper at your ear, or if you email me . . .
Q. How about Alzheimer's?
A. I may tell Gloria I would have to go to the Post Office before going to the Market, then Seminary, etc. But 10 minutes later when I drive my car I may forget about the Market, only the Post Office and the Seminary, etc. I forget names of people that I met, too many times. Occasionally some name would come up in my mental database after 2 days, or 4.
Apparently the blood circulation is getting weak on the head, causing all these problems. So some exercise will help instantly …. or a happy phone call, or some funny memories that stimulated my mind. So it is all a matter of "blood circulation".
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Q. Hey, this conversation about the mind versus blood circulation reminds me of something. I heard you have a theory of what the soul is. Is it true?
A. Yes, I believe God has a real-time computer database of your mind. Your brain has several billions of neurons? That is just like a few megabytes of memory. God can keep it updated easily, by superfast NMI or MRI scans of the cells in your brain.
So that database is your soul! Nothing is hidden from Him at the Last Judgment. When you die, God still keeps that database. Your death is just like throwing off your old laptop, and replaced with another at Jesus' Second Coming.
Q. Meanwhile, you become a bodyless soul!
A. Yep. Like a 32 gigabyte Flash memory stick, that can be "played" or read from, with another computer. This explains your consciousness after death is totally possible.
Q. Whew, sounds like a bad dream. Luckily this is just your imagination, thankfully.
A. But God already created you, a computer with 32 gigabytes memory cells, with muscles and bones and neurons and blood vessels and guts. What would prevent Him from doing all these that I thought would be an easy thing for Him to do?
Q. Unless there is no God . . . .
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A. There is a very rational article by a neurosurgeon Even Alexander, in Newsweek, that he experienced Heaven. See http://www.thedailybeast.com/newsweek/2012/10/07/proof-of-heaven-a-doctor-s-experience-with-the-afterlife.html
My father in his life, and me in my life, have from time to time heard of friends having such experiences. One was Mrs Joan on 2nd floor at our apartment in Maple Street, Kowloon, 1944 or so, I was 3 years old. That was my first experience of going to a Christian funeral, with a nice casket etc. Then my mother told me she died with a smile, whispering that she saw Jesus welcoming her Home.
Q. Some psychologists would explain that as an illusion.
A. I would like to spend all my fortune to ensure such a joyful way of breathing my last breath. Or would you prefer having the death of Voltaire, a lifelong atheist scoffing at Christians? He was seeing nightmares of darkness approaching him, for days before his death. He would push them off in his delirums with his hands, but these darkness demons still approached. He was frantically shouting, "I am scared . . . ", and prayed that Jesus will deliver him. To no avail. He died in horrifying fear and sweating. The nurse henceforth refused to serve any dying man unless he was a man of faith. Would you dare to insist in believing in Atheism and die such kind of death?
Q. Not all Atheists die that way today, hee hee hee, you lose your argument!
A. If there is a pill that guarantees you die like Mrs Joan instead of Voltaire, do you want it for $300 a pill?
Q. Frankly, it is a worthwhile gamble. Yes, I shall take it.
A. At the cost of not hanging to your Atheism to the end? You will lose your reputation as an AntiChristian.
Q. When one is dying, who cares about one's reputation as a faithful Atheist? I would rather take that pill.
A. Smart guy you are.
Q. I must confess that it is impossible not to believe in God when we see the body so wonderfully crafted and designed.
A. I sometimes wonder why we are not like insects, with a shell outside protecting all our muscles and pulp inside. Why would God give us this flesh that can rot and takes so complicated blood vessels to maintain its health. When I scratched myself or bit my lips, I would rush to the bathroom, put on eucalyptus oil, and literally see the bleeding stop in seconds. I said, Wow, Why did God make the blood having the ability to clot when it meets oxygen in the air? Or why would the muscles of the wound contract when I apply the eucalyptus oil? The design of the muscle and blood vessels is the hand of a genius. Evolution says it all come out of "Natural Selection". But even the evolutionists today admit that Darwinian Natural Selection cannot explain such wisdom.
Q. You put it well. I often say it is easier for a scientist to believe in God than not to believe in God. But which God should I believe in, the Christian's? Muslim's? or Buddhist's? Someone said "I want to believe in a God that does not mind what lifestyle I live, gay, straight, married, or single."
A. My experience with Mrs Joan told me that God is real. Life after death is real. The experience of Voltaire shows us Demons are real. There are so many more experiences from Voodoo, from witches communicating with the dead in America, that proves that Demons exists. Such proofs are scientifically testable, irrefutable.
If Demons exist, then God must exist.
------------------Page 4 Feeling God-----------------------
Q. I am scared of Demons and the Devil. I dare not even go to listen to such places where a "medium" person will cause a spirit to possess someone to prophesy about one's future life, etc. Such places have a dark, fearful atmosphere.
A. You have good discernment. Stay away from such places and people.
Q. However, how can I find God? Christian? Muslim? Buddhist? Bahai? or just simple Agnosticism?
A. One of my blessings in my 72 years of life is to have found Jesus. He made my life happier and happier as I went on with life. Now I tell people my latest 15 years are the happiest in my life so far.
Q. How did you know your Jesus is true?
A. My father likes to soothe his nerves by taking a reel and hook and go to a quiet pier to fish. To him, he cannot see fish swimming 20 feet below the sea, but then there comes a small tugging from the nylon line, that tells him a fish is now nibbling at the bait. Then my father suddenly gets very excited. With one gigantic 6 foot heave on his arm, he jerked the line, followed by quick pulling in of the line via the reel or just with his two hands. He sometimes let me pull, and I did feel the frantic motion of the fish trying to get off the hook. My father would say, "See, when you are hooked in sin, you can try to fly left and right, but you remain hooked. Satan would laugh hee hee hee, and slowly pull you into his grip."
The moral: Though unseen, the existence of the live fish can be evidenced by its jerk on the line. My father said he can discern what kind of a fish it is, whether it is a Dang Goong, or Larp Yue, or sometimes an eel, or a crab. (Excuse me these Cantonese names). But he can tell.
So you can find out the true God by hooking your heart's cell phone to Him and talk to Him.
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Q. This is interesting. How do you talk to God?
A. How do you talk to Queen Elizabeth, if you have a chance to meet her?
Q. Ooh, I would try to smooth out wrinkles on my shirt, stand properly with my heels together, and bow, and say, "Thanks to your graciousness of letting me talk to you, Your Majesty."
A. Good. So you can sit properly, with respect in your heart, and say, "Oh God, Thank you for letting me speak to you, though I know you not. If you are true, please let me feel you talking to me in my heart. I have some difficulties in life. If you can help me see your Hand guiding me out of my myriads of decisions, I would appreciate it, and I promise, I will seek your Presence more . . . "
Q. That sounds like bargaining with God. Would He get angry with you and just snip off your life with a whiff of His hand?
A. Thankfully, the Bible says, God is close to the broken hearted, and those stricken in spirit. He will let you hear His voice, see His hand.
Back in Kunming a college grad told me she was hoping to put down-payment on a unit of a new housing development tract, for her parents. Yet she was late, and every house in that tract had been bought by some customer. She had to wait for another later phase of the housing project. So she tried to pray for the first time in her life, about her desire.
Amazingly, God answered her prayer, and one of the buyers suddenly returned the house to the company and cancelled his contract. So she could get this new house, still being built. To her it is a "Wow". God really is real, to her. So if you humbly ask God, He will show Himself real to you too.
--------------Page 6 Will God answer prayer if . . . ? ---------
I am not a faith healer. A family was renting a small apartment from me. He called me about his gas stove not lighting up. So I went. It was a stove with 4 burners at 4 corners of a square. I lifted up the crates and the metal lid underneath. Out jumped 4 cockroaches. I was angry. "See, you never cleaned the stove. All the oil and grease are clogging up the holes on the stove . . ." He then said, "These things belong to you. Therefore I dare not touch them, and never cleaned them . . . ."
I was boiling inside with anger. Then I saw his right leg, quite swollen. I said, "How long has it been so swollen?" He said, "A month. I did not go to work for 2 weeks already."
I was angry, but felt pity. He was a Buddhist with something he worshipped in the living room, may be pictures of idols or an ancestor spirit shrine. I said, "I am Christian. But if you like, I can pray for you."
He of course was desperate. He quickly said he wanted me to pray for him.
So I prayed, half-heartedly, "Almighty God, have mercy on this man. He is suffering. Please heal His leg, and let Him know You are the true God that is merciful to our plight and troubles . . ." Then I went home, still angry, after I cleaned up his stove.
A week later, I called him on the phone. "How is your leg?" "It got well, amazingly, even on the very day after you prayed . . ."
I am amazed that God can use my half-hearted prayer for such a pitiful man.
Q. Wow, you mean I can pray just like that?
A. We usually end up a prayer by "In the name of Your Son Jesus, I pray. Amen", meaning you admit you have no right to ask God to answer your prayer, except for Jesus who is the Mediator that gives you the honor of talking to God.
Q. What is this "Amen" thing?
A. In Cantonese it is "Sing Sum Sor Yuen", which means "This is my sincere heartfelt plea."
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Q. Tell me, in your experience, how real is God?
A. Plenty of such. One example, Jesus says in Matt. 6, "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be given unto you," I was preparing things that I would need when I meet these lovely students in Guangzhou, now graduated from college or high school. Then when it came to packing things for this trip to meet them, my mind was sometimes too tired to think of what to bring. Then one night I almost heard a voice, reminding me to bring my razor and toothbrush. Another day I was reminded to look for my Hong Kong ID card, etc.
Then 3 days ago I lost my address book. Gloria and I were already quite stressed. We spent 2 hours searching everywhere, and finally I had to call the Fitness Club to see whether it fell out of my coat in the locker room on to the floor. We prayed. Made the call. Felt dejected. Then I searched my old B-briefcase that I used that morning, because my usual A-briefcase is already filled with stuff I need for this trip. I was searching the interior of B for the 3rd time that day, and then I suddenly found it in one of its interior pouches. That was within 2 minutes after I called the Fitness Club. We thank God, called the Club to tell them no need to search for the thing, and . . .
And then several days ago I found a wooly white jacket that I was bemoaning its loss for days. It was on top of some luggages that I could have seen, near my bed.
Moral: tell your daughters never, never marry a busy man like me whose mind is occupied by big things and becomes negligent on small things.
I got a good doctor friend CKY who would think about Bible verses when he is not doing surgery, and he has become an outstanding Bible teacher. I love to hear his stories of the faith of simple folks in Uganda. But then his wife would tell me when he get out of a hospital, he would forget where he parked his car, and even worse, the model and color of his car. :) :)
I can tell you of another instance: 2 years ago Gloria lost a chain of keys. After a few hours, at dinner time some stranger called us on the phone, and said he picked up the keys. We said, "Where?" He said, he was working as a Biola Univ. campus guard, and walked by a relatively obscure part of the parking lot, and there was something shining on the ground!. He found the 3cm by 2 cm. small Fitness Club ID card on the chain. Then He took the time to go to the Club close to Biola and inquire about the name and then phone number of us. Can you imagine that? God took care of our mistakes in our time of stress. Still we took good care to make sure this man was not a cheater, and met him in campus, and got back the keys. Hallelujah.
Another funny incident: A few months ago, Gloria drove her car to a shopping center parking lot, where another friend picked her up and drove to a nice home where several ladies would get together once a week to pray. Gloria dared not drive there because the roads are winding and narrow over some foothills. After prayer meeting, the friend took Gloria back to the public parking lot, dropped her off, and went her way. Then Gloria discovered she lost her car keys, and could not open or drive her car. She searched her handbag, etc., and did not find it. She called my cellphone, but I did not hear the call . . .
In these frantic moments, suddenly she felt a quiet force turning her head in a certain direction. There at the trunk of the car she saw her chain of keys was still inserted at the trunk lock, still there after plenty of shoppers could have seen it on that parking lot, and could have stolen the car. , . Wow.
2 years ago I had the "white patch miracle": I had much trouble cleaning the cracks and tiles of our bath tubs and tiles. In the middle of the night, I went to the bath room, and saw a mysterious white patch on these old floor tiles inside the shower closet. Wow, what is that? Then Gloria said she poured the last few drops some bathroom cleaner liquid on it. It has no big brand name. But I discovered it has hydrochloric acid as one of the ingredients. When I went to the supermarket I could not find that brand. But after some minutes, I felt my eyes was turned into one 10 inch section on a shelf, above my head, filled with all minds of cleansing stuff, of many brands. There I found a cleansing bottle that has the hydrochloric acid. We bought it, and lo behold, for the first time in 30 years, the floor tiles got 90 percent brighter. I began to brag about it at my Cantonese Sunday School class. . . I still think hydrochloric acid should have been illegal in Calif. Thank God it makes sense to have it as the only effective stuff that can clean up old calcium deposits from the hard water and soap deposits.
Was this pure luck? If so, tell me your similar lucky stories in your own life.
However, I began to see our God is as the Bible says, "compassionate to our troubles" You may say we are careless people. Well, you cannot help but be forgetful and careless when you reach my age. Yet God is almost telling us, as Jesus said to the woman with haemorrhage, "Daughter, let your heart be at peace . . ." The jerks on the fishing line in my father's fingers told him it is a certain fish, still unseen by the eye. Similarly, these incidents in our lives told us that our God is a loving God whose heart is big enough to worry for us and our troubles of life.
When a toddler falls down on the floor. He would cry, but his Mom would rush forward to pick him up. Do you know God is the one who picks up your pieces when you fell down, or are discourged, depressed?
Thoughts At 73
Q: Are you 73 yet?
A: Soon.
Q: Back in high school you were a rather quiet fellow. Now at retirement age, are you the talkative type, or the quiet type?
A: I am very thankful God released me from many hang-ups of childhood, such as my fear of English, my craving for achievement in math, my overconsciousness with my self-image, etc. So I am no more fearful of talking, even talking about my inner feelings.
Q: So you are quite different from the image your high school classmates had of you.
A: Thank God, He helped me to change.
Q: How do you feel about old age? How do you feel about loss of prowess, mental sharpness, and ability to achieve big goals?
A: If my goal in life is just achieve, achieve, achieve, I will be a workaholic. I do have some goals which I hope to achieve in the probably last decade of my active intellectual life, but I don't mind if God suddenly wants me to "Pack Up and Go", without finishing those projects.
Q: Hey, hey, hey, what is this "Pack Up and Go" thing?
A: I picked up the expression from Chuck Smith of Calvary Chapel, who has cancer, and still living an upbeat life, full of smiles and humorous jokes from day to day.
It means, "if God calls me Home, I am ready to go." These days I would look at my past life. I already lived a fuller life than I wished back when I was young. Back then I would say, "Living to year 2000, when I would be 60, is only a small chance, because my health back in my teen age years were sickly at best."
One thing I enjoy very much is playing the piano. I still have some mental ability to do geometry, but I dare not say I can do so after I get on 80. However, music skills actually improve as one gets old, despite Alzheimer's, they say. I finally had been able to sing a hymn (or better, play it on piano), with my personal touch and feelings. Back then in high school, people would only say I played the piano without much expressions and feelings. That is why I got into developing my abilities in math and sciences. If you want to listen to my playing, please try /music/chihyms.htm
You see, at our old age, music relaxes you and others. Music brings in scenes of Heaven down to the hearts of others. It is a different form of communication, from soul to soul, instead of from mind to mind.
Q: I like this idea of touching heart with heart, rather than mind to mind.
A: Catherine Szeto is my cousin, about 4 or 5 years younger than I. I visited her in 2007. That was the last time I saw her. I enjoyed her, she enjoyed me, I knew she had cancer, but we communicated heart to heart, and words were almost needless. I think of her as a younger sister of mine, and we had much in common, including hymns and music and sense of humor. I think you will like the picture I had with her in http://woobiola.net/photos/md2007/P1170033.jpg and http://woobiola.net/photos/md2007/p1170043.jpg There she looked on me with a childlike smile, and I was enjoying talking on some stuff. My daughter Rachelle took the picture. It is priceless.
So this is what we old people enjoy when we meet old friends. A few weeks ago I called up one of my old high school classmates, Wai ChunKuen, and we chatted over the phone as old chums. Some issues that we differed back in younger days now became insignificant. We only talked about what we are doing, for Jesus, for the needy, these days. Ah, I wish we knew the joy of such Heart-to-Heart communication, as opposed to mind-to-mind talks, back when we were at our forties.
Lesson of Love from Sparrows
Peter Y. Woo, 2007/7/3
Under the eaves of our house often are hornets nests or birds nests. 3 weeks ago I found lots of bird's dung on the pavement under our eaves, which are 20 feet high. I got impatient, got a double length pole that can stretch to 16 feet, and poked at it.
It fell down. As before, I expected some mess with the broken eggs and the twigs. Well, as I used a broom to brush the stuff onto a dust bin, something moved. A newborn birdie! In fact, three!. They have black feathers, and 4 inch long scrawny legs, and looke like dirty brown balls of fuzz. I expected them to be dead soon, but I placed them on top of a tree stump.
Well they were still not dead the next morning, and then I heard an unusually loud chirp from some birds.
For the first time in my life, I felt guilty about killing the birdlings. I began to think how the parents had felt. I began to feel myself a murderer, of innocent children of two birds.
The next day I told my wife. She never cared much for birds. She took a look at those things, they were still alive. Night came, I finally put some paper towels into a bowl, put the 3 little things in it, put the bowl on a little stand outside the house.
The next morning, two sparrows chirped loudly. They must be the parents. They have dabbled breasts, a little bit of a black cap over the heads, bigger than ordinary sparrows, otherwise quite undistinguished in shape and color, but sang almost like parakeets. I still don't know what they are, definitely not swallows, but I just call them "sparrows".
I moved the bowl into a flower pot shelf outside our front window facing east, under our avacado tree that protects them from the sun during the mornings. The parents knew, and soon they began to drop down on the birdlings from time to time. They fed them with little spurts of toothpaste like black and white stuff. At first I thought they were messy dung, but the way they were smeared on the paper towel very close to the birdlings, I think it is food.
Now it began to move my heart. This is how the parents labored so hard to feed their children, who could not chirp, could only squeak a little, squirm a little, but they have bright yellow rimmed wide beaks. These parents, like my picture of the old man holding his granddaughter, are uneducated, dirt poor, yet all they have, all they know, they bestowed on the little ones. That old man of Guizhou patted the screaming child, and said, "Oh it hurts no more, it hurts no more" (bu toong ler, bu toong ler . . ) Scientifically, such words are futile to reduce any of her pain, yet this is all, all that he could say, from his heart, with all that he did have ----- love.
Well, these parent birds do the same.
Soon my wife began to get hooked on these birdlings. She tried to shield them from the cold nights, or from the hot day. I told her not to regard their "food" as dung.
We crossed our fingers to see whether they survive. After 3 days, they seemed to grow stronger, and bigger. The parents chirped around, morning and evening.
We went to a pet shop to look for a cage. We want to keep the birds and make them our pets. But a small cage costs $30 USD !!! Well, too bad, my love for the birds is real, my contrite heart is real, but still too selfish to sacrifice that much money.
Then I left for Hong Kong.
After 36 hours, this morning in Hong Kong, She called and told me the birdlings have flown away.
I was glad they survived, but she was sad they flew away. Now there are no chirps in the morning around that avocado tree. She wished they won't fly away like that. I said it is better for them to be free and healthy, and perhaps, if we put some food out there, they may still come back.
A thought came: Our Father knows someone is filled with apprehension and sadness because the husband leaving for HK and China for a few weeks, and so He sent her a little adventure. An adventure of falling in love with these fuzzy things that came into her life just for a few days, to show how He cares for us, just like these chirping parents cared for their young. Oh it brought so much warm feelings to us, and I was almost in tears. The Chinese say He loved us "mow may butt jee", taking care of the most minute details.
My wife often wondered where is God while she suffered so many uncertainties and setbacks in health during the past 12 months, but once I left, God sent her 3 gifts of comfort. 1, these birds; 2, a sister who is in great need that she can minister to; 3, the Editor of the popular Chinese Christian monthly newspaper called, encouraging her to write for them again. These in addition to our daughter R coming with husband and son to live with us a while.
Sparrows and Evolution.
Peter Y. Woo, 2018
1. We all like sparrows. I know no old man that complains the sparrows out there are too noisy for him
Why? Because they chirp. They chirp early in the morning, they tweet also in evenings. But we humans can feel they are more happy in the mornings.
They somehow can impart their joys to us humans, as Ms Vehrencamp the researcher found. That is why we can watch sparrows sing for hours, if we can, and catch their feelings of joy or sorrow.
Now here is the problem for the Evolutionists: why do sparrows not evolve into humans? Ans. They have more appreciation for beauty of this world, than humans have. To evolve into humans would be going backward, not forward.
Birds have brains perhaps 100 times smaller than humans, yet they can enjoy the world better than us humans. (Even the big ostriches have small brains). So are birds more advanced than humans in the Evolution scale? Have we in archaeology found some evidence for some birds evolving a human mind? Never, but why not? How about humans evolving into birds, have wings that fly, etc.? Why no such archeological evidence at all? They only eat worms from the ground, full of bacteria. Why don’t they die? Why don’t we humans eat worms too, if they can make them happy, all the time!
These questions the Evolutionist cannot answer.
Sparrows may not be as beautiful as swans, but they still are beautiful. The angles in their legs, the way their eyes look at things, are full of beauty. Why? The evolutionists said they did this only to attract mates. I do not think attracting mates is the main reason why they loved beauty. I believe some of their chirps are filled with music and joy, as that scientist said.
2. And there is some species called the “tsi woo” in Chinese. In a forest fire, the mother would pick the young birdlings from their nest, but at last some birdlings are still there. Guess what, the mother would cover them, and let the fire burn herself to death, with the young birdlings. Evolutionists say she would save herself, but now we saw the mother bird has the same love that we humans have for our young. Well, we Christians believe God love us with passion and emotions in a similar manner.
3. Another example are cows and sheep. They told me cows do not have human cancer. Why? Because the grass they eat have all the vitamins they need. Well, do cows know that grass have all the vitamins? No. But why humans have cancer and other diseases that cows don’t have? Do cows evolve after humans, since they know how to live better than humans do? They seems to enjoy being cows more than we humans enjoy being humans, we still don’t eat grass. Well who evolve who? The evolutionists cannot answer one way or another. The tigers have fangs and claws, yet they do not breed as well as the little defenceless lambs. Is that an outcome of evolutionism? The hippo is huge, the ostrich is dumb, and the donkeys are not intelligent, yet they survived for centuries. There is an intelligence somewhere for their survival. Who?
4. Someone said, it takes more faith to believe in the intelligence of blind evolution, than to believe in an Intelligent and Loving Creator. There is more knowledge of the beautiful intelligence in our cells, one decade far more than another. Can the Evolutionist explain that?
On the Contrary, the Christian God Is love.
God taught us to love our enemies, before the time of His retribution would surely come. You don’t see that kind of love from the Muslims or Buddhists. But you see so many American Christian doctors going to show love at poor Chinese villages.
What animals would love their enemies? I have seen some lioness would love a newborn lamb, or a wounded animal. That is love for other species.
I have seen a team of swans flying one after another, to immerse the head of some enemy swan into the water in the lake, to punish him with drowning, because he violated some female, I guess. Wow, I did not know swans would have rules of conduct like that. In other words, they have a moral code. Who put it into their minds? Huh?
We humans love cats or dogs, but not often both. Because there is a cuteness and loveliness in both. Same kind of cuteness exists in our own children. Other children may be cute, but may not win your love, as you love your own kids.
God put that kind of cuteness into our kids, that other neighbors may not see. Similarly He loves you and me with that kind of personal, individual Love. How many times in your life had He saved you from death, for some purpose, may be just love itself!
Are you cute? You don’t think so, but God does think so. God loves you. Wow!
Some of us still remember the loving arms of our mother when she held us as a small child. God put that memory in you, so that not only some day you can hold your own child in love, but He wants to hold you in Love.
You say, I am thirsting for that kind of Love. But how do I know the Christian’s God is true?
You can put Him on a test, you can ask, “God, I don’t know You, if You are real, please let me know. I really like to have my mother’s arms. . .” If God is not true, you have made an honest test, and you feel He is not there. But if God is true, He would show you Himself in a special way. Another prayer: “God, if You are real, I have sinned against You a lot in life. Please forgive me for my past sins.” You will feel His forgiveness. You will feel cleanliness in life again. Then read the gospel of John in the Bible. You will see God loves this world through His Son Jesus. When Jesus saw the widow whose only son died, He went to the dead young man carried by pall bearers, and said to the widow, “Weep not!” and he made the young man arise from the dead. Well, God can make a new life grow from you, because you trust His only Son, Jesus Christ. This is love.
How I know God is Real.
Peter Y. Woo, 2017/12
1. I made a U turn on the Freeway 5. It was about 1980. I was driving to Monterey Park to teach Adult Sunday School. Gloria and the two girls went to a local church because some one was a bit sick.
I was driving on Freeway 5 when it rained, the road got slippery. I was on the fast lane. Then I saw the two cars on my right, on lanes 2 and 3 were slipping. So I stepped on gas to go faster than they. But too late. They hit each other, and the car in Lane 2 slipped to my lane hit my back fender.
My car began to slip, out of my control. I saw the metal fence separating N. bound traffic from S. bound moving closer and closer to my car at 60 mph. I said, “Here I die . . .”
But soon I saw an invisible hand push away that fence from my car, thus saving my car. The next moment I was slipping towards the right, away from the middle fence.
Then I said, “I die anyway . . . because drifting to the right means I would be hit by cars anyway . . .” But the funny thing is I made a U-turn on the freeway and made a stop at the 5th lane on the right. Why? Because the two cars lined up 90 degrees, one on Lanes 1 and 2 , the other on Lanes 3 and 4, thus preventing (!) all traffic on 4 lanes.
So I got saved, on the Lane 5, which is an off-the-freeway ramp. After waiting for 1 minute, police cars were not coming, I got bored, so I carefully made another U-turn over the 5 lanes and continued my drive to the church at north.
Meanwhile, suddenly in her car, my wife felt an impulse to pray for her husband with the two girls, not knowing why, but strongly felt an urge to stop the car and prayed. This is the same time during my U-turns.
Two hours later, I came back from church, It was raining, and I said to my wife, “Whew, I am glad to be still alive. I slipped and drove two U-turns on Freeway 5 !!!
Now we know how God answers prayers.
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2. Then in 1985. One day, after my annual check-up the Family doctor said to me and my wife. “Sit down, I have things to tell you ”. So we did. Then he said, “Your X-rays show some dark spots on your lungs. We asked a lung specialist to look at it, it seems to be a secondary cancer spreading in your lungs. Now we have to find out where it is from, possibly your kidneys, . . .”
Strangely enough, I was not in a panic mode. I have lived a very good life. Now may be I will proceed to see my Maker . . . As I drove the streets with Gloria, I saw the buildings, and said,
“May be this is the last second or third time I would ever see them again”
At home, my wife and daughters cried. Then we went to Prayer Meeting of the church. Then Pastor Murphy asked me to kneel on the pulpit, and he prayed for me with much tears. At that time our church was 50 people or so, and so we know one another well. One family pledged to fast and pray for me.
The doctor asked me to see a heart specialist, a Jewish doctor. He did not see my X-rays, just asked this and that, and said, it is not cancer. (Wow, whew!). But it might be TB, from Hong Kong. So again they had to do an operation to cut off some part of my lung and culture it. Well, nothing, but I took TB pills for 3 months. Then he said, “Did you go to the desert?” “Well, perhaps . . .” So it might be something 6 syllables big, a desert disease. Meanwhile, the black spots in my monthly X-ray began to shrink! After one year they were gone. The doctor said, “We know not exactly what it is . . . But you are healed.” I think Pastor Murphy’s tearful prayer did it.
So I got healed, how shall I thank God?
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3. What should I do? I can become a pastor, going to preach regularly in some churches, or get involved with Mission. In 1992 I went for a few days to Sichuan, with my brother and his wife. God let me meet the Lisu people that I heard so much about. I found out Christianity is growing in China. In 1997 we went to Beijing, where Gloria taught English as Secondary Language to the high school teachers. We had to say “Sh Sh” when we get in an elevator in the hotel.
In 1998 I was almost 60, too old, and too late, to be a missionary. But missions caught my imagination.
I met a girl G. who was older than myself for < 24 hours. She asked me to see their work in QingYuan (pronounced Ching Yuan). I said, Why such a place in south China, why not in the northwest provinces? She said, “Look, we are just Cantonese people, and cannot speak Mandarin well. So I stayed in GuangDoong Province to help the poor students. . . .”
Eventually I become neither a pastor or missionary, but a Christian tourist who goes to China every year, except 2003, the SARS year. These are the happiest 15 years in our lives.
So we took the bus, 2 hours from Hong Kong to Canton (GuangZhou) and 2 other hours to QingYuan. The kids are simple, lovely, all from the same high school. One girl leaned on Gloria and quietly said, “Is America a very good place?” We said, “There are needy people in America too. . .” Another pointed at a man driving some cows in the valley. He said, “If it were not for your scholarships, I would grow up doing what he is doing, driving the cows…” The principal of the school was a quiet Christian. In one School van alone, he took some kids who need to go home, and took us along, as his guests.
Eventually we took 5 kids for support, some $350 per year, covering tuition and lodging and food for one year, and ask some rich American friends to donate. We do the writing of letters.
Some girl started with writing a few lines in English, but mostly in Chinese, then as days passed she would write the whole letter in English, leaving a few paragraphs of emotions and feelings in Chinese. Finally she could write it all in English.
I love visiting their homes. They have something they could spin around with muscle power, and an electrical blower will blow the husk and chaff away from the ripen rice they have harvested and dried on the concrete floor for days. When it rains, the first thing they run around was to rescue the drying rice. Some boy pointed to a mountain, and remarked it looked like a sleeping lady, with a nose and mouth and chin. “I grew up watching this Lady Mountain”, he said. I loved it.
There was a cemetery, where a teacher was crowned national hero, for jumping into a river to save a kid, and she drowned. I ask myself, “Do I love them, as a Christian, more than their Teacher?”
There was a teacher, called Mrs Woo, and she would support a boy who was very poor, and treated her like a son when she crossed the street. I met her.
One boy and his younger sister, after their father’s death, one day, watched their mother deserting them, to marry someone in another village, leaving them to relatives. Imagine how they cried for their mother. Eventually they had to beg on the streets. Finally a chance came: the city had a new mayor. He wrote a letter to the new mayor, telling of their troubles. The new mayor was touched. He called Miss G. “Can you support this poor boy to school and lodging?” She said “Yes”, and there begins a new career for the boy. She then called me, yes, little me, whether I can support him. I said yes, but I don’t have to support his sister yet, because she was still in elementary school. She lived with a relative, who treated her like a slave, “Have to cook and wash dishes each day, before her studies.” Her name is Pretty Dragon, and his name Dragon Bladegleam. When a year later they met us, the first question he had was “Tell me, why are you believing in God.” The first question she had from Gloria was “Was America a great good place?” after she felt the warmth of Gloria’s arms.
In 2004, the principal could not sleep, because the money he gave to 8 new kids wound up in somebody’s own pocket. So he called me, and I began to support “QingYuan’s 8 Kids”. Most of them became Christians. It was not my money. A lady Jan L. in Santa Barbara gave us $3000USD to spend it any way we want in China, $3000 = $340 * 8 + … It was the Lord’s provision, for the welfare of these 8 kids. Within one year the loving lady died of cancer.
Starting 2002, we began to go to Yunnan province, city of Kunming and starting another ministry there.
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4. Ah Sean (pronounced Shawn). It was 1975, we were living in Santa Barbara from 73 to 77. I was fascinated in the life of a girl Joni Eareckson, who wrote a book “Joni” on amazon.com you can buy. She was a quadriplegic (worse than a paraplegic, even hands cannot move) due to an accident, but she overcame her sorrows, and live a glorious life helping other quadriplegics, got married, and witnessed on the TV. (see http://woobiola.net/articles/joni.htm )
Over her inspiration, I heard the news that Sean, a hardware engineer in my company, a half-Hawaian and half-Asian, is dying of cancer. He was about 35+. I hurried to the hospital, I tried not to talk much about his medical condition, but I just asked one question, “Sean, what do you think about death?”
“Well, I tried not to think about it, but sometimes I think about it, it is a puddle of darkness.”
“Have you ever thought of accepting Jesus Christ as your Savior?”
“Sometimes.”
“Would you like to do it now, just one prayer?”
“Yes.”
This was a surprising answer. I never saw that readiness in a person. So I tought Him the simple Sinner’s prayer, “Lord, I admit I am a Sinner. But You died for me. Now I accept you as my Savior. Please let me live the New Life from now on.”
Wow, he did it. Afterwards I asked him “How do you feel now?” He said “I now feel peace in my heart”.
So once each week I visited him. Other friends also visited him. He recovered to the point he can eat a meal on his be d. Then at the 4th week he died. The Pastor said, “Sean, who led you to Christ?” He would reply “Many of my colleagues” and he cannot name someone. But whenever people ask him for fear of death. His reply was “I now have no fear”.
Yeah, death is just a door to cross over to the other side, full of glory and love. I am glad I was one of those anonymous friends that helped him.
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5. This reminds me of another story. 1963 August was my last stay in Hong Kong, and the 3rd time Billy Graham came. For once, he was so sick he cannot preach, so a coworker of his, Roy Gustafson, preached. It was raining, but quite a lot of people went out to the football field in the stadium, to accept Christ.
I was trained for 4 weeks, once per week, in a church close to Hong Kong Univ. So I was in the football field as a “counselor”. Though the next month I would go to Univ. of Southern Calif. For further studies.
Out came this man, in his fifties. I asked him “Are you ready to accept Jesus into your heart?” He said “Yes”. Just one word.
I read a little of the Bible, gave him a little John’s Gospel. I promised to visit him once a week. I lead him through the Sinner’s prayer. That is it.
So I visited him a few days later. I asked, “Did you read the Bible?”
“No,” but I read this booklet John’s Gospel, some 3 times.
Wow, that was very good. He was so old, I don’t think he has wife and children. I dunno why.
At 4th week I again visited him. He was gone! The one in the house said “He died in a car accident.”
Wow, I helped him to have a good relation with God, at the last month of his life!
This was my experience as a “counselor”. Then I went to America.
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6. “DaGher”. In 1978+ I was asked to visit a lady’s big brother. So we drove to his home. She went in first, and I heard her arguing loudly with him while I stood outside. Then she came out, with some tears, and asked me to come in.
“ DaGher” was sitting in his bed, one leg cut off. He said to me, “You know a man in my condition does not like meeting people . . .”
But I said, “I am a musician, like you. I heard you like to sing.”
“Huh, I not only sang. I was an opera singer before.”
“Did you sing at the City Hall?”
“Huh. I sang at Metropolitan Opera House of NY.”
“What an accomplishment!”
We then talked on other musical topics, and he began to soften down. I must have said I was sad to see him losing a leg.
He also said, I suppose, he like to see me again.
So I left. His sister told me he owns a restaurant. But working there give him no time to take care of his diabetes . . . He was strong, but the doctor had to take care of his bad circulation on his leg.
Then he got well. He came to church, accepted Jesus, and occasionally he sang on the pulpit with one leg, and guess who is accompanying his singing on the piano?
I visited him from time to time. He seemed to be more happy.
One day he was sick again, in the hospital. I went to see him. He said, “Strange. Every time you visit me you brought me so joy . . .”
After some talk, I had to leave. He said, “May I pray?”
“Of course you can.”
So he did. Afterwards he said, “Guess what? This is the first time in my life I prayed.” Then he wept. Like a baby.
Some weeks later he departed from earth. I am glad I brought him joy.
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7. Days of Joy in HK Univ. I was in the most prestigious academic institution, Hong Kong Univ., from 1959 to 1962.
First I had little chance of going there. My father was a poor Pastor in a poor district of Hong Kong, with an unstable salary.
Second I had a poor interview with the scholarship committee. Yet somebody told me they want to flunk me because I was so shy and hardly greet them properly. Yet their chairman, a very grave (British, it means serious) man, suddenly sprung up, and said “I want to help this poor boy . . . .”
This is how I got the scholarship for 4 years in HKU.
In HKU, 3rd year, everybody prepared for the Finals. Many read the Chinese translated Russian math books, published by China. Some of my schoolmates would rush into the Library every day at 7 a.m. and occupy a seat, and study there (whenever they don’t go to lectures) until something like 9 p.m. I do not like to buy any of those illegal Chinese books, cheap as they are. So many of my schoolmates know much more math than I. But at Finals, we all had to wear our academic gowns, and go to our randomized seat in Luk Yew Hall. I found out that I can do six out of eight problems in each “paper”. A friend who is biology major, told me I was the best student in math, after he had some friendly talk with the teachers. And surprise! I was only 3rd best in physics, that I hate.
So my classmates studied so hard, to no advantage, or else it is God’s grace.
Then at the 4th year, called Bachelor of Science Honors class, equivalent to USA grad school 1st year, I was doing math only. One day the most prestigious Department Head (called “Professor Wong” in British system) heard my presentation of a proof of some math theorem on the board, said, “From your way of presentation, I know you have not grasped the idea of math research, and you have not shown any good cultivation of that abiliy . . .” In other words, “You are no good for any grad school”. Strangely enough, I was not hurt at heart. Perhaps I know I am not good compared with others. But eventually a classmate Bosco came to Univ. of So. Calif., and talk well of me, recommended me to the Head of Dept., and got me a scholarship in USC for 5 years, 1963 - 68. Then at USC I got good grades, because I was repeating the B.Sc. Hons class, so a professor Dr Busemann, asked me to be his apprentice for Ph.D. He was tough, but very gracious with me, and I got my Ph.D. from Him. This was God’s grace.
One day in 1967, our 1st girl Ying Ying was born. One night she was crying, and Gloria got up to change her diapers. I tried to sleep, but in my half slept state, I proved my first major theorem in my dissertation. From now on life is easier, and a few months later Dr Busemann said I have done enough for the dissertation research, and I got the Ph.D. in summer 1968. Isn’t this God’s grace, that I got Dr Busemann as guidance professor?
Hah, my scholarship is $3000 for the year, and I had to pay tuition fees $1750 per year, leaving $1250 for living. Rent is $50 per month, gasoline is $0.18 per gallon, and food is $10+ a week, somehow I can even feed our baby. Plus a cheap old car for $150!
Ah, one professor, who nearly flunked me in his subject, became Dept Head of USC, and one day he called me to teach a night class, for $4.50 an hour. Wow, in a year, we saved up some $1400 in the bank, with which we bought our first house for $23,500, and paid a 6 % downpayment, and some $200 per month. There begins a new era. God is sufficient. To Him He can provide our needs in most wondrous ways.
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8. Another Miracle. About 1969 we rented an apartment for a few months in Manhattan Beach town. Our first daughter Ying Ying was a cute 2 years old already. Two neighboring girls liked to come and play with her, but I do not like them too much. One Sunday we drove 40 miles to church. When we came home, we saw the two girls in a bit of fear.
They were coming home, and saw a burglar who was entering our apartment, his body half inside our window. They shouted “What are you doing …” and the burglar fled. We were so poor as a church mouse, and I don’t even had a laptop for them to steal. Wow, God protected us once again. We are grateful to Him
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9. The keys. One day Gloria lost her keys. We search the whole house, to no avail. So we prayed.
Guess what? At dinner time the phone rang. A man found the keys! He was a visitor at Biola, and at night, at a few-visited portion of the parking lot, some things were shiny. He found the keys. With one tag saying "Gloria" and another tag saying "LA Fitness". He contined to drive to LA Fitness, and found Gloria's telephone, and the called us. What mysterious persistence!
So we drove to Biola Univ. that very night. He knows some of the night guards, so we got the keys! Was this not an act of God? Another guy would think of robbing our bank account or something. But he was somehow like with Biola Univ., a Christian school!
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10. A Close Relative Mr T. He was married in the East coast, but he made the move to California, with his wife. He has a son, who at 2 and half years old, took my hand for a walk. I told him "this is a red flower", he would say, "Ugh ugh ...". Then later on I would tell them "this is a yellow flower", and he would say, "Ugh ugh ..." But in a few months he becase a great talker to catch up all the lost years!. Ha ha ha!
Anyway T was in real estate business, and soon become rich. He then liked Ms Seto, a friend of mine, who was an independent evangelist. She led him to encounter and even like the gospel of Jesus. His own family has his younger bro. becoming a believer, but his mother remained an ardent Buddhist.
Eventually he had cancer, because he smoked a lot. He would do plenty of research in the Internet, that he knows things more than his doctors. But eventually his cancer spreaded. His son was only 17 when he departed this life.
So one day he was breathing his last. He lived downstairs, near his living room, assisted by some nurse 24 hours. Then his wife called us, "This may be his last night ...". So we rushed to his bed side. The nurse was a temporary substitute for the main nurse. She has a car with a fish (!) indicating she is Christian. Soon they asked Gloria to talk to him. Gloria was not used to be talking to a man at his last hours. But she urged him to accept Jesus as his Savior. Then his family began to say, "Dad, accept Jesus! Accept him!" He seemed to indicate his consent. And we prayed for him and left in the middle of the night.
His wife prayed, "Lord, if his faith is genuine, take his life. So he will not deny you again when his get so urged by his other relatives." The Lord fulfilled her prayer.
At 4 a.m., the nurse asked the family to gather at the bedside. She said, "This is the hour . . ." So they gathered. Strangely enough, he usually love his daughter and son, but his gaze turned on the ceiling corner, and his facial expression was that of a wonder, surprise, and welcome! Then he breathed his last, in such a joy of wanderment. Wow! He may have seen an angel, or something. Not a bit of fear of death.
At the morning his mother came, with Buddhist candles to mourn his death, but he is gone already to Jesus. They decided to have a Christian funeral followed by a Buddhist funeral, at Rose Hills cemetery.
At the funeral service, his wife and daughter and son held hand in hand, and they shared their thoughts. The Son gave a testimony and invited the guests to accept Jesus. At the grave site, it was late afternoon. We saw a team of birds flying to the air, and the sun shone through the clouds on his casket. It was such an unusually warm and loving scene.
So we finished prayer, and went to restaurant. Suddenly the weather turned cold. The monks and his relatives come to the grave, did their Buddhist rituals. Some of them caught a cold. Later some of them joined us at the restaurant. I remember telling some of them, "We Christians believe in a Reunion after death." Of course Buddhists believe otherwise, he would turn to another life of a young woman, or some animal, but no reunion. So some of these relatives stared at me, and wanted to hear more about this Reunion with a loved one.
His girl later on wrote, "Though my father did not reach age 50, I still want Him to die a believer, than being a non-believer and die 40 years later."
I have never seen a more beautiful funeral service, at the Sky Rose Chapel.
12. To the Reader. You most likely have seen God’s hands in your life. Have you thanked Him, loved Him?
Have you seen He acted in your life? Have you accepted Jesus as your Savior like Sean did?