Having received a few feedback regarding certain entries in our competition, we feel we need to clarify a few things:
- This competition is based on each writer’s individual experience and provided they can testify to them being genuine, we consider all testimonies valid and eligible for running. We hold to the guideline that each writer is entitled to their own opinions about their experiences, and in their expression of said opinions.
- Currently, this is still part of an ongoing competition. As such, the articles listed on this page are still under the prerogative of each writer and Asian Beacon will not meddle in any way with any content by any writer. If we ever publish any articles under the name of Asian Beacon, we will clearly state our stand on our statement of beliefs.
- This competition is judged purely on the writer’s testimonies and not on the finer points of theology. While the competition is still ongoing, in all cases, and in line with our respect for each writer’s individual testimonies, we adopt a ‘spirit rather than the letter of the law’ approach to each writer’s testimony.
- The Asian Beacon team will endeavour to its utmost to be fair to all participants, without any discrimination, prejudice, or favoritism to any single participant.
- In all cases, the Asian Beacon team will hold true to the conditions we have outlined in our Terms and Conditions for the competition. You may find these terms on https://asianbeacon.org/writing-competition/
Asian Beacon would like to reiterate here that we are all members of Bible-believing churches and we hold to the evangelical creed. We thank those of you who have raised your concerns and hope this will help answer your questions.
To Be the Light
by Katherine Khaw
The journey with Christ is personal, non-interchangeable with any other persons. It is unique, precious, individual – our testimonies are special stories weaved into God’s artboard, a public declaration of His goodness in our lives. This is my story, of how Christ has changed me, and how He continues to do so today.
I had the privilege of knowing Christ from a young age, as my parents were both believers. However, despite my uncanny bouts of questioning the origins of good and evil, I did not connect the gap of these queries with the need for Christ. It was more of a routine, the usual humdrum, the way the sun is scheduled to rise and set, only to repeat again. The placement of Sunday classes by the church was taken for granted. Only later, as a growing child experiencing late night terrors of wondering what if I slept and never woke up again, in which death had come for my soul, did I start wrestling with the idea of Jesus.
I remember still, clambering and crying aghast, into my parents’ bed, under thick covers, but only chills suffocated my body. I asked of my father (as my mother was fast asleep):
“How do I know I won’t die tonight? What if I go to some scary and terrible place like Hell? How do I know I’ll go to Heaven?”
Looking back, it must have been perplexing to smoothen out a frightened child clouded with such serious thoughts. My father answered me then, that Jesus is the only way. The answer to my worries, to my confusion and overwhelming fear. I wanted to believe so badly, I wanted to get over the terror, I agreed. As a simple child who wanted the bad things to go away. Sleep came easy after the night’s exhaustion.
That was one of the major turning points for me, for rather than viewing church as a routine item, I started to learn more intently. I enjoyed the activities held by the Sunday school teachers and participated when I felt comfortable to do so.
Yet life is filled with ups and downs. Entering teenage years, even as some may attribute it to hormonal changes and identity searching (puberty), what I do know is that I gradually grew close-minded, emotionally unwell and prone to anger. I became reclusive in my home, despite a warm family environment. While I would keep up with my studies, I drew away from family bonding. In fact, I would shut myself in the room. On nights when I felt like it, I would even stay up to the early AM hours, despite having classes the next day. Secrets began to pile up in the form of books and electronic note-taking pursuits. With lack of sleep and internal musings, I was easily angered and would act out on it. Whenever expressed at school, there were two reactions: immense fear, and a strange awe, mixed with slight amusement. Lashing out in one’s furious episode comes with damaging consequences – memory tells that I have broken a door, torn pencils, pens and the like, bitten people, and other unkind acts.
A sense of grief overwhelmed me over time, crashed like unending waves. I believe it was the move of the Holy Spirit that spoke to me. I did not want to be controlled by this rage, even as it seemed to creep up in unpredictable bursts. I prayed for intervention despite not understanding how it would happen. It was something I decided in my heart without sharing with others. I still felt closed, so I did not share this resolve with anyone else. I thank God now, despite leaving it as a solo goal, I grew more patience and love for people and circumstances. Today, new acquaintances cannot believe that I had a hot temper and inflict cruel deeds. Jesus is able to speak peace to the raging storm in my heart, fix issues and lies that I had been keeping in my head all this while.
Despite not considering myself a people-person, I learnt time and time again that God can change what we think we know best. I began to be involved in more people ministries within my church and college/university CF. I found myself reaching out to people who have not seen the transforming work of Christ. I do not think that I am a bold witness, but the little I can do, I will try. Resources within my means, I attempted to employ. I engaged in writing encouraging notes, to both friends and strangers. I felt stirred to pray, no matter if the individual is a close friend or not. I slowly recognised that prayer is powerful, that it is a whispered hope anchored in God’s authority. It does not mean that in this world there would not be trouble. But instead, we can take heart for He has overcome the world. Why then should we walk with shame or constant fear of the unknown?
Growth is continual. I desire for God’s strength to continue changing me from the inside out. The Christian journey has been challenging and humbling: I found a way to love a dear person with godly purpose despite stark sin (now overcome), be exposed to the darkness of various persons’ broken heart (still on the mend), to seemingly never reach the ones I want to save from Hell’s tangled grasp (for their hearts remain closed), to suffer the death of someone I never expected to lose so soon in this life (for it makes things far easier to regret). I do not want to be a light hidden under a bowl, or a spark in the daylight, for it is far more meaningful to be the lighthouse to sailors who have lost their way at worldly sea. Maybe the journey would be lonely at some point, as we walk differing roads, but we know we have a community that celebrates our gifts that glorify the Lord, that this diversity will bring more into the saving knowledge of Christ.
I am not the same person I was before. With my identity etched in Christ, I wish to be the best reflector I can be, no matter if I am clay or gold, for who am I to say that I cannot fulfil the tasks He has lovingly set me out to do? Here’s to honouring God, in every season, in the moments of joy and sorrow, for He is here with us, always. Should we suffer as He did, we will rise as He did too.
