Sometimes I did not understand what I was saying. After my mouth stopped moving, I would stare at the other person to see if they understood anything that came out of my mouth, because I did not. Also, I would do this while hoping that they did not ask me to explain what I meant by what I just shared, because I did not. Maybe they could humor me by lying, saying that “Oh yeah, I understand exactly what you mean”. Following this major failure, my face would be drenched with sweat, and my mind would run out of control. I knew this was not a panic attack; this was the usual feeling of embarrassment and the wish that I could fix what was wrong with my mind. I tried to figure out why I am unable to focus, like everyone else. To understand what people were saying as they were speaking. My mother said I was dropped on my head when I was younger. Yeah, maybe that could be it. Or could it be ADD? My sister told me she was diagnosed with it. I knew I needed to figure it out because this could also be the reason. I barely made it out of elementary school, which is why I had to repeat grades 9 and 10. Why I fell asleep during my classes in college. The truth is, I felt like Joey on Friends in many of my conversations. That is, pretending to understand what people were saying. Nodding when I think it was time to nod, or timing perfectly the laugh when I think it was time to laugh. Just praying and hoping that I gave the correct responses in the right places. But neither was I content to accept this intellectual deficit that failed me each time I opened my mouth. There had to be a better way. I will confess that I did not seek professional help, as the embarrassment is real. Rather, I would prefer to fight this monster in silence, so that I don’t have to admit to someone else that something is wrong with my mind. As a result, brain games, word puzzles, green tea, reading more, exercise, and a nutritious diet became part of my daily routine. So far, these simple changes seem to be working. I am still not where I would like to be, but if I could use my present achievement, that I am heading in the right direction, it would be that I graduated with my master’s degree with magna cum laude. Confirmation that I was not dumb is a true self-esteem booster and a reminder that if the motivation is strong enough, you can accomplish anything. I still probably should get a professional opinion. However, I still struggle with the embarrassment of admitting that something is wrong with me, so I continue to battle in silence, hoping that with every daily effort I will move from embarrassment to confidence. Pain is an effective teacher, but it loses its power when we embrace its instructions. It is through her instructions that I have learned lessons of resilience, patience, and determination. Today, my tutor is this mental deficit, but for others, their tutor may be stutter, dyslexia, or amputation of some limb. These are not necessarily limitations, but again, teachers. The truth is, it is tough for those who don’t fit the typical mold to fit into this world. For that reason, they instead are forced to reshape the world so they can fit in it. Oftentimes the struggle puts a strain on relationships. At home, the lack of understanding leads to arguments. At school, the lack of focus gives rise to frustration. In interviewing for the new Job, instead of admiration, we are looked on with pity, but also passed over for someone else who does not come across as weird. Despite these failings, I try my best (although most times I fail) not to hold a grudge against those who do not understand my plight. After all, they are not walking in my shoes. Relationships erode when we choose not to empathize or try to understand others. Nevertheless, my commitment is that, even if I am not given the same grace, I will not perpetuate the problem. So my goal, first and foremost, is to continue arming myself with the right attitude. The reason being I cannot be of help to anyone if I am not in the right mindset. Also, I have dedicated my life to creating resilient young people. In my weekly workshops with early teens, youth, and young adults, I’ve piloted a program I call OFC. OFC stands for Opportunity, Faith, and Compassion: an opportunity to ask more profound questions; the belief that a faith never questioned is a faith never owned; and the conviction that the experience of being lost fosters compassion for others. That’s why, for the past six years, I’ve spearheaded annual mental health and wellness sessions to help youth and young adults develop a healthy and resilient mindset. From this experience, I have learned that small, consistent choices can improve one’s mental health, such as reading, a healthy diet, and brain exercises. I still wish I did not have to deal with this issue. However, this pain in my life has forced me to face and conquer my foe. This experiment has become a metaphor for my life. A reminder that added limitations do not have to dictate your life. And perhaps more importantly, the victory gained can be an encouragement to others facing similar struggles.

Sometimes I did not understand what I was saying. After my mouth stopped moving, I would stare at the other person to see if they understood anything that came out of my mouth, because I did not. Also, I would do this while hoping that they did not ask me to explain what I meant by what I just shared, because I did not. Maybe they could humor me by lying, saying that “Oh yeah, I understand exactly what you mean”. Following this major failure, my face would be drenched with sweat, and my mind would run out of control. I knew this was not a panic attack; this was the usual feeling of embarrassment and the wish that I could fix what was wrong with my mind. I tried to figure out why I am unable to focus, like everyone else. To understand what people were saying as they were speaking. My mother said I was dropped on my head when I was younger. Yeah, maybe that could be it. Or could it be ADD? My sister told me she was diagnosed with it. I knew I needed to figure it out because this could also be the reason. I barely made it out of elementary school, which is why I had to repeat grades 9 and 10. Why I fell asleep during my classes in college. The truth is, I felt like Joey on Friends in many of my conversations. That is, pretending to understand what people were saying. Nodding when I think it was time to nod, or timing perfectly the laugh when I think it was time to laugh. Just praying and hoping that I gave the correct responses in the right places. But neither was I content to accept this intellectual deficit that failed me each time I opened my mouth. There had to be a better way. I will confess that I did not seek professional help, as the embarrassment is real. Rather, I would prefer to fight this monster in silence, so that I don’t have to admit to someone else that something is wrong with my mind. As a result, brain games, word puzzles, green tea, reading more, exercise, and a nutritious diet became part of my daily routine. So far, these simple changes seem to be working. I am still not where I would like to be, but if I could use my present achievement, that I am heading in the right direction, it would be that I graduated with my master’s degree with magna cum laude. Confirmation that I was not dumb is a true self-esteem booster and a reminder that if the motivation is strong enough, you can accomplish anything. I still probably should get a professional opinion. However, I still struggle with the embarrassment of admitting that something is wrong with me, so I continue to battle in silence, hoping that with every daily effort I will move from embarrassment to confidence. From this experience, I have learned that small, consistent choices can improve one’s mental health, such as reading, a healthy diet, and brain exercises. I still wish I did not have to deal with this issue. However, this pain point in my life has forced me to face and conquer my foe. This experiment has become a metaphor for my life. A reminder that added limitations do not have to dictate your life. And perhaps more importantly, the victory gained can be an encouragement to others facing similar struggles.

Standing there, unfolding this piece of paper with only a phone number scribbled on it. The police officer informed us that this piece of crumpled-up paper was found in the deceased's pocket with a gun on the ground. To me, he was not the deceased; he was my friend. We high-fived and hugged each other. He called me "my dog." Of course, I took this as a gangster form of respectful greeting, knowing a little of his background. Although I felt uncomfortable being called "my dog". But hey, if it made him feel connected to me, then I'm okay with that. This experience has forever shaped me to realize that as human beings, we need to step away from the shallowness of our relationships and go deeper with each other. And for me, this was and still is not a natural thing to do. But as John Maxwell says, "Everything worthwhile is uphill." That means if it's worth achieving, it won't come easily; it requires intention, discipline, and daily effort. And so today, this has helped me to become a little bit more attentive to the needs of those around me. To pay keen attention to what they are not saying. To be a cheerleader for their progress and a buttress for when they are weak. I only wish that I could have seen the pain behind his eyes and his smile. I only wish I could go back in time and show up for him, and unfortunately, I will never be called "my dog" by him again. But maybe I can be there for other young people who may be struggling with issues they are hiding. For this reason, I have dedicated my life to creating resilient young people. In my weekly workshops with early teens, youth, and young adults, I've piloted a program I call OFC. OFC stands for Opportunity, Faith, and Compassion: an opportunity to ask more profound questions; the belief that a faith never questioned is a faith never owned; and the conviction that the experience of being lost fosters compassion for others. Throughout this journey, I've also learned that mentoring young people with low self-esteem or a limited view of themselves often makes growth more difficult. That's why, for the past six years, I've spearheaded annual mental health and wellness sessions to help them develop a healthy and resilient mindset. As a result of my efforts, I recall one young man from Japan who joined one of my mentorship classes. He shared with me that he felt lost in his current job and was deeply unfulfilled. After we spoke, and to the chagrin of his parents, he made the bold step to leave that job in pursuit of something more meaningful and purposeful for him. Today, he mentors and guides others just as I once did for him. Witnessing the transformed lives on a day-to-day basis has not only given me confidence but has also planted an idea in my mind. We don't have to be the most articulate, the smartest, or the wealthiest. But one small act of compassion and bravery can be the catalyst someone needs to choose persistence over quitting.

Why do you want to pursue ministry Hope sometimes can be elusive, even for the bravest among us. Tiffany (not her real name) reluctantly reached out seeking anointing. She just found out that she has a mass growing in her abdomen. She took the prognosis with courage, but as she got closer to the surgery date, reality struck. And now she was thinking about her two children (she did not mention her husband, but I am sure she was also thinking of him). Now the ugly beast of fear and anxiety was being fed by the real fact that she may never live to see her little girl grow up to start her own family, or her young boy to live out his dream or calling in life. I invited all available elders to come together so we can pray and anoint her. Of course, I, too, had my anxieties. Would I be able to do a good job leading this prayer session in a way that is meaningful for Tiffany? Am I good enough that God would listen to me and heal her, or would my anxieties derail her healing? All these questions swirled around in my head. The day arrived, and five elders showed up, accompanied by friends and family members. The Anointing service went tremendously well. A miracle had started to unfold, despite my concerns. So much so that, at the end, Tiffany shared with me that yes, the anxieties she had are now gone. Her furrowed eyes were no match for the love, support, and concern everyone had for her. Her spirit was supercharged by the abundance of biblical promises that all would be well. She went into the surgery with confidence and came out with confidence. Today, she is healing from the surgery, but we continue to keep her in prayer. I can't confidently admit that I pursued ministry. But I can confidently say that each time I see God using an inexperienced minister like me for his glory, I am convinced that I am in the right place. Today, my motivation for being in ministry is to see what else and how else God can use someone as simple as me for His glory. And what is your desired outcome? Each elder had the opportunity to share a passage of scripture with Tiffany that was meaningful to them. And as they shared, you could see the sincerity, the love, the compassion in their eyes. This was not a show or a competition; they were genuinely interested in her well-being. My desired outcome was achieved that day and has become a model for future ministry endeavors. To see each elder participate in this sacred ceremony and the impact it had on their lives. I know it has strengthened their faith. Despite my vulnerabilities, I want to continue inviting other ministry leaders and church members to walk alongside me and watch, observe, and learn how they, too, can pour hope into the lives of others. And next step? For this reason, my next steps are to invite more ministry leaders to join me in ministry, so that they, too, can learn and grow. So that they too can experience the joy of service, despite their weaknesses. My next step is to challenge them to let go of perfection and lean into their vulnerabilities. Accept their imperfections, because when they see how God uses them despite these weaknesses, they will be convinced that it was a miracle. My next step is to instill courage in each ministry leader. Because hope only exists where there is courage.

Standing there, unfolding this piece of paper with only a phone number scribbled on it. The police officer informed us that this piece of crumpled-up paper was found in the deceased's pocket with a gun on the ground. To me, he was not the deceased; he was my friend. We high-fived and hugged each other. He called me "my dog." Of course, I took this as a gangster form of respectful greeting, knowing a little of his background. Although I felt uncomfortable being called "my dog". But hey, if it made him feel connected to me, then I'm okay with that. This experience has forever shaped me to realize that as human beings, we need to step away from the shallowness of our relationships and go deeper with each other. And for me, this was and still is not a natural thing to do. But as John Maxwell says, "Everything worthwhile is uphill." That means if it's worth achieving, it won't come easily; it requires intention, discipline, and daily effort. And so today, this has helped me to become a little bit more attentive to the needs of those around me. To pay keen attention to what they are not saying. To be a cheerleader for their progress and a buttress for when they are weak. I only wish that I could have seen the pain behind his eyes and his smile. I only wish I could go back in time and show up for him, and unfortunately, I will never be called "my dog" by him again. But maybe I can be there for other young people who may be struggling with issues they are hiding. For this reason, I have dedicated my life to creating resilient young people. In my weekly workshops with early teens, youth, and young adults, I've piloted a program I call OFC. OFC stands for Opportunity, Faith, and Compassion: an opportunity to ask more profound questions; the belief that a faith never questioned is a faith never owned; and the conviction that the experience of being lost fosters compassion for others. Throughout this journey, I've also learned that mentoring young people with low self-esteem or a limited view of themselves often makes growth more difficult. That's why, for the past six years, I've spearheaded annual mental health and wellness sessions to help them develop a healthy and resilient mindset. As a result of my efforts, I recall one young man from Japan who joined one of my mentorship classes. He shared with me that he felt lost in his current job and was deeply unfulfilled. After we spoke, and to the chagrin of his parents, he made the bold step to leave that job in pursuit of something more meaningful and purposeful for him. Today, he mentors and guides others just as I once did for him. Witnessing the transformed lives on a day-to-day basis has not only given me confidence but has also planted an idea in my mind. We don't have to be the most articulate, the smartest, or the wealthiest. But one small act of compassion and bravery can be the catalyst someone needs to choose persistence over quitting.