Even though I knew in my head that this was an amazing opportunity... I had to battle my heart and my flesh as I felt my frustration level rising. There was a sense of urgency in finishing my preparation ahead of time and I was not performing. I had no output. It was like a ticking clock... a countdown to the moment when my inadequacy and unpreparedness would be revealed and on display for ALL THESE WOMEN to witness. My shame was impending.
And then something small... so tiny in the grand scheme of things... just like the girl at the retreat who wanted to introduce herself to me... something triggered and the floodgates opened and I had a full on meltdown...again. I cried harder than I'd cried in a long time; I cried to the point of debilitation. I could only lie in bed and let all my tears and snot flow out of my eyes and nose. Did any of the Bible guys have moments right before battle... where they were alone and despairing because they maybe only had 300 men to go up against thousands? I had nothing up until that point. Nothing but a few lines and a couple of devotionals that I thought were noteworthy... it was a pittance compared to what I needed to offer on Saturday. Yeah. So I wailed.
Sometimes God comes in a whirlwind... like how He came to Job. Sometimes He comes as a big dark cloud or a blazing fire on Mount Sinai like He came to Moses. And yet sometimes... He comes as a still small voice to a little Asian girl crying her eyes out in her bed... on top of her blanket of pink and turquoise flowers. He said to me... "Tiff... my child... I hear you. I know you. You cannot do this on your own, but I can. Let me. Pick yourself up. Clean up. Let me help you." So that's what I did. I was still crying... still leaking... as I trudged to the bathroom (and hoped that no one would seem me on the way there). I looked at my face in the mirror and what I saw was appalling. Bloodshot eyes... streams of snot pouring out of both nostrils and down my chin... and the frizzy hair of a crazed mad-woman. What is super ugly to my eyes is what I see. But God sees the heart. And the heart of a woman who is so completely broken before God... is beautiful to Him. That is where true beauty lies. It's not in the face. It's not in the eyes. It's not in flawless skin or beautifully tamed tresses or even in delicately manicured fingernails. It's the heart.
So I decided that... maybe I cannot write a speech to these ladies... but I can write them a letter. Worst case scenario, I will just read the letter out loud and then sit down and be done with it. So that's what I did. I wrote them a letter like I was writing out a blog post. As I was writing my letter, I thought of pictures I could use to help draw them into my life... into my testimony... so I started my powerpoint of pictures. And then before I knew it (two days letter... the night before my talk)... my letter was pretty much done. I had no idea how to end it so I just ended it with, "Thank you, I'm done". Kinda reminded me of Forrest Gump when he ends a story and says, "and that's all I've got to say about that." I only practiced for about 12 minutes. I got through half my letter in 12 minutes so I figured that finishing up the rest of it would fill up the 30 minute time slot. That was as good as it was going to get.
The morning of the brunch... I woke up kind of late. I had no time to prepare anything. I had barely enough time to get ready. We left 10 minutes later than I originally planned. There were two fresh accidents on the way there and 3 people texted me that morning telling me they couldn't come. Frustration from being in traffic and possibly being late and then disappointment from friends who wouldn't be able to make it... it felt like Satan was actively trying to break my spirit and tear down my courage. So I prayed. I sent a prayer request to my small group and a few close friends and I sat for the rest of the car ride... fighting back tears...but feeling a sense of peace in my heart. If Satan was trying so hard to destroy me... that must mean that there was significance and importance to this brunch. I felt even more affirmed that this was where God wanted me to be.
The fact that my cousins go to this church had nothing to do with how I became this brunch's speaker... they found out after I already agreed to do it. It is also no coincidence that my cousin was going to be the MC as well. She'd done it in previous years and she was going to do it again this year. My cousins knew I was going to be a little late and when I got there, I was greeted by a great big hug and a smiling face saying, "NO WORRIES!!! Everyone's on Asian time!!!" and then I burst into tears again. And then my cousin and another lovely lady laid hands on me and prayed for me.
And everything did turn out just fine from then on out. My cousin cried while introducing me. I was already delicate on the tear threshold so i don't think I went 5 minutes into my talk before I started crying. But it was OK. Always a good day when there's crying involved.
And it was a good crowd. They laughed even when I wasn't really trying to be funny. I went off script many times because I was just feeding off the energy from the crowd. And this was my life... I know my life inside and out. I cried harder about this than my defense but this turned out even better than that because I felt God moving and I felt the power of the Holy Spirit behind me and in me... and I was as much captivated by God's grace to me as I suspect the ladies were as they listened to my testimony.

Here's some of my favorite pictures from that day.
