One of my passions.

Today, I reflect on passions. You know, the things in us that spark desire, the fuel of life. There is a misconception in many people’s minds that passion is a non-essential. At the same time, there are many people who have stated much more eloquently than I am capable of that passion is completely essential to whatever you do. What is not clearly explained, however, is that passion does not look the same for everyone.

The minute you begin to speak about passion, everyone instinctively thinks about their own, never pausing to consider that the very things for which they carry vague indifference could be another’s passion. This is one of the hardest things for me—talking to people who are indifferent to my passions. This is one of most serious passion-killers. If no one gives the slightest concern for the things which you are passionate about, would you continue? In one sense, continuing in spite of indifference is a proof of true passion. Make no mistake though, a passionate person, as such, is probably also a lonely person.

The real challenge in life, I believe, is that once you have found your passion, deciding to carry it and guard it against a world of indifference; for you will find that enemies and friends alike will fuel it, but indifference will cause it to waste away because, after all, who wants to be lonely?

Belief correction: passion is not a lifestyle of loneliness, but a lifestyle of difference. It is a privilege to be different. It is a privilege to carry a unique passion. The problem does not lie with you or your passion. The problem lies with the people who remain indifferent. They need to wake up. They need to learn to appreciate others’ passions and spur them on. The reason that they are asleep is probably because their own passions died to indifference, and what they need is someone who will choose to live out his/her passion so that it’s flame might soften their hardened hearts.

With that said, allow me to share with you one of my passions: this song, an adaptation of Isaiah 6, which is free for you to download. 🙂
If you like it, check out my single on iTunes also.


On one of my many pilgrimages from my apartment to the library, I came across this sight:

We are the branches, He is the vine.

This branch was dead. The first word that came to my mind was “withered.” I think it reflected my current feelings of my spiritual life. I felt like I was withering.


In the past, when I felt like I was withering, it was usually because of noise. People around me are always searching for some sort of external stimulation: television, music, talking, eating—whatever they can find to fill space-time around them. They have lost the art of silence—the blank canvas of life. That’s another discussion. My point is that in the past, I found myself spiritually parched because of excess noise. This time it was different. This time I had not enough noise. This time I had grown complacent.

I felt the usual uncertain, unguided longing in my heart and suddenly realized that I hadn’t spent much time lately with Jesus and I sorely missed Him. I was shocked at first because I had been surrounded with so much silence and then I realized that in the face of pure silence, I too had sought other things to clutter the canvas of life.

Odd: when I am surrounded with other people’s clutter, I make room for empty space. When I am surrounded by empty space, I splat whatever cheap paints I can find onto my canvas. The freedom of silence is what we were made to live in, but we do that so poorly that one begins to wonder if true freedom can ever be achieved. Thus begins my next challenge over summer: I make room for God in the midst of other people’s clutter quite well; now, can I make space for Jesus in the midst of my own clutter?

Something Different

It all began with a fortune, you know, from a fortune cookie:

My fortune at dinner that night.

These things are usually meant to be pretty generic, but it’s always amusing (and sometimes I think God-ordained) when they line up with actual events about to happen in your life. In this case, I knew that what I had planned for my weekend was going to be different than normal. What was it you ask? This:

Yay for the arts!

I accompanied a poem reading on violin for an art expo at a local church. There were singers, dancers, musicians, and fine artists of all sorts—and completely free. It was worth the time, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. 🙂
That’s all I really have to say about that… but not quite. I don’t really have much to say about performing, but I do have something to say about the experience.

I observed many things about myself through this event—mainly, that I need “alone.” I’ve been around people and their “noise” almost constantly since last school year began and I started realizing through this event that I had forgotten who I was. Aloneness gives me a chance to talk to myself and remember lessons I’ve learned and places I’ve been. If I don’t spend time with myself, I forget who I am. My identity doesn’t readily flow out of me, I have to be intentional about being me. This is a hard thing. It takes me a while to get past the initial depression of loneliness, but once I do, I find myself coming alive like never before and enjoying the company of others more fully. Perhaps this is just one of the many intricacies of being an introvert. Whatever it is, it certainly is something different, and I can’t wait to explore it more.