Somewhere, sometime ago, God saw the line, stretching from the rural parts of North Vietnam to the icy streets of Kingston. Somewhere in that heat of East Coast Park, God lit the spark. 

And he didn’t give up, gave me breath, gave me a fuel and kept my flame alive.

Somehow, he decided to pick the needle out of the haystack. The set up: December 2005 — I am sitting on the bathroom floor on the verge of tearing myself apart. Move back to Vietnam with family or stay in Singapore, alone. At twelve, no kid lets her family move away and stay alone in a strange country, with strange people, when another alternative is given. I don’t know why I did it, but I did. 

With every new dawn, I have another to look back at and see the inevitable hand of God in my life. I could spend days to tell you all about it. I could trace it back to when I was 9, 6, 2’;when my parents got married, why they could have/nearly, but never did marry anyone else. 

Had they had done so, there wouldn’t be me. I’m no special, but I can tell you one after another, the times when things could have gone otherwise, that God stuck His finger in the crack and never let the door close on me. Somehow he decided to reach out to me, and honestly it’s so crazy, I don’t even know why or what to do about that. 

ECP: March 2006 — I still remember the heat, the wind, the sand-filled sandals and the canopy. Hey Hamy, it’s God. We finally meet.

I am the first to know Jesus in my family. If he went to such length to get someone like me, then know I won’t be the last. 

I am the legacy. No, HE is my legacy.