Igrew up in Koreatown, Los Angeles, in a Christian household, raised by a single mother whose faith in Jesus shaped my childhood. Even though we did not grow up in a traditional two-parent home, my older brother and I never felt a lack. My mom trusted God deeply, and her quiet, steady faith gave our home stability even in uncertain seasons.
When I was thirteen years old, I came to believe that Jesus Christ was my Lord and Savior. I understood that salvation was not something I could earn, but a gift given through grace. Scripture says, “For by grace you have been saved through faith… not a result of works, so that no one may boast.” (Ephesians 2:8–9) I believed that Jesus died for my sins and rose again so that I could be reconciled to God. At that age, my faith felt sincere and real, but it was still sheltered by the security of my upbringing and my mother’s presence.
Everything changed when I went to college.
During my first year, my mother was diagnosed with cancer, and within a year she passed away. I remember sitting beside her hospital bed while worship music played from her phone. Even in suffering, she prayed and worshiped. After she passed, I found a note she had written thanking God for allowing her to gain a deeper understanding of His grace through her illness. This deeply challenged me, because gratitude was the last thing I expected in a moment like that.
The months t
hat followed were some of the hardest of my life. When I returned to Harvard, the pace of life felt almost disorienting. It was a place where achievement, prestige, and success seemed to be what everyone around me was striving for—where everything moved quickly and outward progress never stopped. Yet internally, all of it felt distant. The things that once felt important suddenly seemed small compared to the weight of loss I was carrying.
I tried to do what I thought would help me move forward—staying busy, surrounding myself with people, never being left alone—yet nothing could fill the emptiness I felt.
Jesus’ words became real to me in a new way, “For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul?” (Mark 8:36)
I began to realize that although I had believed in Christ years earlier, I was still relying on myself: my accomplishments, my plans, my ability to hold everything together. Grief exposed how fragile that foundation was, one that was not rooted in Christ. In that season, God showed me how deeply I needed Him. John 15:5 says, “Apart from Me you can do nothing.” and for the first time I understood what that truly meant.
The gospel became personal in a deeper way. Scripture says, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23) and I saw clearly that my greatest need was not success, stability, or answers—it was salvation. I could not fix myself or earn peace through effort. But God, in His mercy, had already made a way through Christ. “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8) Jesus lived the perfect life I could not live, died the death I deserved, and rose again so that I could have new life in Him.
In that broken place, God met me with grace. He reminded me that my identity lay not in what I achieved, but in being His beloved daughter. My prayers began to shift toward surrender, toward the words of John the Baptist, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” (John 3:30) Following Christ was no longer about giving Him parts of my life—it was about laying my whole life before Him.
In His kindness, God eventually brought me to Sacramento for medical school at UC Davis. In His grace, He also led me to Chinese Grace Bible Church, where He has surrounded me with loving sisters who reflect His faithfulness and care and whose lives seek to honor and obey God.
And through the family and friends He has placed in my life, I have experienced His faithfulness in such tangible ways. Their love has carried me through some of my hardest seasons and continually points me back to Him.
Looking back, I can see that even when life felt uncertain, God never left me. He was gently teaching me to trust Him more fully—the same God my mother trusted so faithfully was patiently teaching me to trust Him for myself.
The gospel is no longer just the moment I believed in Christ at thirteen—it is the foundation I stand on daily. My prayer is that my life would continually point back to Him: that He would increase, and I would decrease. That every part of my life, seen and unseen, would be shaped by the truth that apart from Him I am nothing, and that in Christ alone I have life, hope, and salvation.