by Joy Wong
I was sitting in class where the topic of discussion was receiving from God. The professor pointed out that receiving from God should be so simple, like a child receiving a gift, but it is often complicated by adults. We often don’t trust the gift or the Giver, suspicious that the gift requires something in return. The professor then asked the rhetorical question, “What could be more precious than coming to God with our needs?”
Without fully understanding why, I found myself fighting back tears at his question. After class, I went to my apartment, let my tears out, and tried to make sense of my emotions. I knew I was often resistant to ask things of God. Memories of my childhood came flooding back to me – instances where I tried to avoid asking for too much by minimizing my needs. For instance, at Christmas, all my friends would ask their parents for expensive gifts, and I would only ask for something minimal and inexpensive, like stickers or candy. Perhaps this stemmed from my Asian American upbringing to avoid being a burden to others. In this case, not being a burden meant not wanting, needing, or asking for anything. There was also a safety in asking for so little – there was less of a chance that I would be disappointed. In addition, I remember taking pride in the fact that I was so easy to please.
Part of me wonders if this also came from my Buddhist heritage from a few generations ago. Buddhists believe that all suffering stems from desire; thus they try to eliminate desire. Perhaps I picked up habits and mindsets inherited from my ancestors. I also suspect that my Asian shame-based culture trained me to minimize my needs for the sake of the collective whole. Moreover, perhaps I have trouble believing in my inherent worth, so that I try to make myself valuable to others by being only a blessing and not a burden. For instance, for a college group icebreaker, I was once asked what fruit I’d want to be and why. My answer was that I wanted to be a seedless clementine – sweet and easy to peel, without any troublesome seeds. In essence, I wanted my life to bring only good to others, and for me, that meant minimizing my needs and desires.
After all these realizations, I began sensing the challenge to get into the habit of asking boldly, extravagantly, and outrageously of God. I am deliberately pushing myself to the extreme in order to compensate for my tendency not to ask. I know I risk disappointment, but I feel urged to ask nonetheless, and to allow God to say yes, no, or wait. In doing so, I am trusting God to accept me with loving arms, validating my whole being – not just the parts I feel are acceptable, but also the parts that I used to consider burdensome. After all, what could be more precious than coming to God with my needs?
As I embark on this new territory, I am recovering pieces of myself that I left behind in my life journey. I’m learning to love and accept all of myself – blessings, burdens, and all.
Joy Wong is pursuing a Masters of Divinity degree at Fuller Theological Seminary. Currently, she is the worship coordinator for the English congregation at Evangelical Formosan Church of Los Angeles. She and her husband live in Pasadena, California. To contact Joy, please send your inquiry to AAWOLblog@gmail.com.
Showing posts with label Joy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joy. Show all posts
March 15, 2009
January 7, 2009
having it all
by Joy Wong
"Don't let anyone tell you that you can't have it all. You can have it all—you just can't have it all at the same time." A former female boss of mine used to quote this to me, and it always helped me adjust to the different transitions of my life, whether from college to post-college life, singlehood to marriage, or moving from the east coast to the west coast. Whenever I found myself lamenting a loss of any kind, I often reminded myself that each stage in life had its own unique set of losses and blessings.
However, lately I've been dealing with a dilemma that has been gnawing at me with persistence, but without resolution. As I approach the end of my seminary education, I've been observing my fellow male classmates take pastoral positions in their churches. All of a sudden, these friends with whom I used to consider myself at the same level--sharing notes, borrowing books, struggling through the stress of deadlines, discussing ministry concerns--have now been promoted to the position of "pastor." They wield positions of authority where they are able to speak truth into the lives of many, and make great influence for the kingdom of God within the church.
I contrast their career paths with my own. As my graduation approaches, the number of times I've been asked about my post-seminary career has nearly equaled the amount of times I've been asked when I'm going to have children. Having been married for 2+ years, either the question is asked, or at other times, I am simply told that "it is time to have kids." I am in no way offended or annoyed by the advice, but it does bring up conflicting desires within me. There is no clear solution to the incompatibility of my career aspirations and the expectations of raising a family. An atheist woman once advised me that having children was optional, but in the Christian church, it seems to be an expectation for married women.
For these very reasons, I've recently found it difficult to celebrate myself as a woman. I imagine myself sitting on the sidelines, my time completely occupied with raising a family, while others (mostly women without children or men of any age) get to fully participate in the church arena. I dread my future as a benchwarmer, with all the desire to be part of the action, but with no energy or opportunity—and the idea of it is heartbreaking. Along with all this come fears that my seminary education was a waste of money, or that God made a mistake making me a woman with all the "wrong" interests, abilities, and desires. As indignant as I am at anyone who suggests that church is a man's arena, I find myself fighting the same lies within myself.
However, in the deepest part of myself, I know that God is not One who makes mistakes. I find some comfort in the truth that there is a purpose and a design that I cannot see. I also believe firmly that God is the Creator of our identities, and that if I was made a woman, then that is something that I need to fully accept, embrace, and celebrate, as a reflection of our Creator God. But in all honesty, even with all this in mind, I still struggle.
As with most mind-boggling puzzles, perhaps the key to enlightenment is a paradigm shift. Maybe I need to see the arena of action not as the church, but rather as the kingdom of God in which mothers are fully participating—not as benchwarmers, but as key players. Perhaps some of us have tried too hard to compete with men, and we have not yet discovered how to find equal footing while being fully content with our identity as women. I don't know. The answers are unclear for me, and the future is hazy. Can we have it all? The answer may lie in the eyes of the beholder. Perhaps the real answer is that nobody can have it all—but that we each are allotted different gifts, skills, opportunities, and experiences, regardless of whether we are male or female.
At the very least, I cling onto this hope: that as I navigate the waters of the future in what seems like a thick, impenetrable fog, I am being led by God who sees and comprehends all that I cannot—and in whose goodness I can trust.
Joy Wong is pursuing a Masters of Divinity degree at Fuller Theological Seminary. Currently, she is the worship coordinator for the English congregation at Evangelical Formosan Church of Los Angeles. She and her husband live in Pasadena, California. To contact Joy, please send your inquiry to AAWOLblog@gmail.com.
"Don't let anyone tell you that you can't have it all. You can have it all—you just can't have it all at the same time." A former female boss of mine used to quote this to me, and it always helped me adjust to the different transitions of my life, whether from college to post-college life, singlehood to marriage, or moving from the east coast to the west coast. Whenever I found myself lamenting a loss of any kind, I often reminded myself that each stage in life had its own unique set of losses and blessings.
However, lately I've been dealing with a dilemma that has been gnawing at me with persistence, but without resolution. As I approach the end of my seminary education, I've been observing my fellow male classmates take pastoral positions in their churches. All of a sudden, these friends with whom I used to consider myself at the same level--sharing notes, borrowing books, struggling through the stress of deadlines, discussing ministry concerns--have now been promoted to the position of "pastor." They wield positions of authority where they are able to speak truth into the lives of many, and make great influence for the kingdom of God within the church.
I contrast their career paths with my own. As my graduation approaches, the number of times I've been asked about my post-seminary career has nearly equaled the amount of times I've been asked when I'm going to have children. Having been married for 2+ years, either the question is asked, or at other times, I am simply told that "it is time to have kids." I am in no way offended or annoyed by the advice, but it does bring up conflicting desires within me. There is no clear solution to the incompatibility of my career aspirations and the expectations of raising a family. An atheist woman once advised me that having children was optional, but in the Christian church, it seems to be an expectation for married women.
For these very reasons, I've recently found it difficult to celebrate myself as a woman. I imagine myself sitting on the sidelines, my time completely occupied with raising a family, while others (mostly women without children or men of any age) get to fully participate in the church arena. I dread my future as a benchwarmer, with all the desire to be part of the action, but with no energy or opportunity—and the idea of it is heartbreaking. Along with all this come fears that my seminary education was a waste of money, or that God made a mistake making me a woman with all the "wrong" interests, abilities, and desires. As indignant as I am at anyone who suggests that church is a man's arena, I find myself fighting the same lies within myself.
However, in the deepest part of myself, I know that God is not One who makes mistakes. I find some comfort in the truth that there is a purpose and a design that I cannot see. I also believe firmly that God is the Creator of our identities, and that if I was made a woman, then that is something that I need to fully accept, embrace, and celebrate, as a reflection of our Creator God. But in all honesty, even with all this in mind, I still struggle.
As with most mind-boggling puzzles, perhaps the key to enlightenment is a paradigm shift. Maybe I need to see the arena of action not as the church, but rather as the kingdom of God in which mothers are fully participating—not as benchwarmers, but as key players. Perhaps some of us have tried too hard to compete with men, and we have not yet discovered how to find equal footing while being fully content with our identity as women. I don't know. The answers are unclear for me, and the future is hazy. Can we have it all? The answer may lie in the eyes of the beholder. Perhaps the real answer is that nobody can have it all—but that we each are allotted different gifts, skills, opportunities, and experiences, regardless of whether we are male or female.
At the very least, I cling onto this hope: that as I navigate the waters of the future in what seems like a thick, impenetrable fog, I am being led by God who sees and comprehends all that I cannot—and in whose goodness I can trust.
Joy Wong is pursuing a Masters of Divinity degree at Fuller Theological Seminary. Currently, she is the worship coordinator for the English congregation at Evangelical Formosan Church of Los Angeles. She and her husband live in Pasadena, California. To contact Joy, please send your inquiry to AAWOLblog@gmail.com.
October 22, 2008
breaking the silence
by Joy Wong
I recently suffered an offense in church about which I had to decide whether to speak up or stay silent. Normally, I would have remained silent, with the anger of injustice burning within me. In the past, I often chose to remain silent for the following reasons: 1) somehow I had come to believe that I was overly sensitive, so that if I was hurt for any reason, it was not the fault of the person who hurt me, but it was my fault, for being too sensitive, 2) without being sure of whether my wound was a fault of mine or of others, I felt it was safer to remain silent, so that I would be the only one who had to deal with the effects of my anger and pain, and 3) perhaps my Asian-ness decided that I would rather remain in silence than burden others with my problem.
However, in this particular instance, I mustered up the courage to speak. A spiritual mentor of mine had been challenging me all summer to be more direct with my thoughts and feelings, rather than keeping them all inside. It would be a bold and risky move for me, and simply because it was not my normal response, it caused me a great deal of anxiety. By God's grace, the outcome was good—I was thanked for being truthful, and my words were taken seriously.
Upon discussion of the event with a friend, however, we began noticing that the general attitude of those in my church was to leave the offense unaddressed—to sweep the issue under a rug, and to act as if it never happened. An extraordinarily large percentage of those in my church are introverted, which may also contribute to this response. However, my friend was quick to point out that it was due to my experience in Caucasian management styles that I was able to even consider the option of confrontation.
In retrospect, I'm glad I spoke up. I'm also gaining further understanding about the challenge of being a leader in an Asian-American congregation, in a church still largely run by first generation Asians. The delicate balance of straddling two cultures is a difficult tightrope to walk, one that takes great skill and perhaps, many attempts to perfect. On one hand, we Asian-American leaders could view this as an opportunity to draw the best from both worlds. On the other hand, it is probable that we will often feel very unsupported, especially when the wisdom of our first generation leaders does not seem to carry well into our Asian-American ministries.
In my particular instance, with the advice and reaction of my elders conflicting with the convictions of my heart, I was able to lean on the wisdom of another woman in AAWOL, who encouraged me and supported me when few others would. I felt like a lone ranger, until her encouragement rooted me in my convictions, like a strong tree that I could lean on. It is during these times that I am so grateful to God for the network of women leaders that AAWOL has to offer for advice, support, and encouragement. We are, indeed, not alone in our struggles--we just need to find and connect with one another. My hope is that through AAWOL, we can do just that, and be mutually strengthened in relationship. As it is commonly quoted, "Together we stand, but divided we fall." My prayer is that through AAWOL, we will be able to stand together, and in doing so, strengthen each other and God's church, to whom we have each been called.
Joy Wong is pursuing a Masters of Divinity degree at Fuller Theological Seminary. Currently, she is the worship coordinator for the English congregation at Evangelical Formosan Church of Los Angeles. She and her husband live in Pasadena, California. To contact Joy, please send your inquiry to AAWOLblog@gmail.com.
I recently suffered an offense in church about which I had to decide whether to speak up or stay silent. Normally, I would have remained silent, with the anger of injustice burning within me. In the past, I often chose to remain silent for the following reasons: 1) somehow I had come to believe that I was overly sensitive, so that if I was hurt for any reason, it was not the fault of the person who hurt me, but it was my fault, for being too sensitive, 2) without being sure of whether my wound was a fault of mine or of others, I felt it was safer to remain silent, so that I would be the only one who had to deal with the effects of my anger and pain, and 3) perhaps my Asian-ness decided that I would rather remain in silence than burden others with my problem.
However, in this particular instance, I mustered up the courage to speak. A spiritual mentor of mine had been challenging me all summer to be more direct with my thoughts and feelings, rather than keeping them all inside. It would be a bold and risky move for me, and simply because it was not my normal response, it caused me a great deal of anxiety. By God's grace, the outcome was good—I was thanked for being truthful, and my words were taken seriously.
Upon discussion of the event with a friend, however, we began noticing that the general attitude of those in my church was to leave the offense unaddressed—to sweep the issue under a rug, and to act as if it never happened. An extraordinarily large percentage of those in my church are introverted, which may also contribute to this response. However, my friend was quick to point out that it was due to my experience in Caucasian management styles that I was able to even consider the option of confrontation.
In retrospect, I'm glad I spoke up. I'm also gaining further understanding about the challenge of being a leader in an Asian-American congregation, in a church still largely run by first generation Asians. The delicate balance of straddling two cultures is a difficult tightrope to walk, one that takes great skill and perhaps, many attempts to perfect. On one hand, we Asian-American leaders could view this as an opportunity to draw the best from both worlds. On the other hand, it is probable that we will often feel very unsupported, especially when the wisdom of our first generation leaders does not seem to carry well into our Asian-American ministries.
In my particular instance, with the advice and reaction of my elders conflicting with the convictions of my heart, I was able to lean on the wisdom of another woman in AAWOL, who encouraged me and supported me when few others would. I felt like a lone ranger, until her encouragement rooted me in my convictions, like a strong tree that I could lean on. It is during these times that I am so grateful to God for the network of women leaders that AAWOL has to offer for advice, support, and encouragement. We are, indeed, not alone in our struggles--we just need to find and connect with one another. My hope is that through AAWOL, we can do just that, and be mutually strengthened in relationship. As it is commonly quoted, "Together we stand, but divided we fall." My prayer is that through AAWOL, we will be able to stand together, and in doing so, strengthen each other and God's church, to whom we have each been called.
Joy Wong is pursuing a Masters of Divinity degree at Fuller Theological Seminary. Currently, she is the worship coordinator for the English congregation at Evangelical Formosan Church of Los Angeles. She and her husband live in Pasadena, California. To contact Joy, please send your inquiry to AAWOLblog@gmail.com.
September 10, 2008
culture and personality
by Joy Wong
I recently attended a seminar on a personality theory called the enneagram. In this theory, there are different personality types, numbered 1-9. The enneagram personality types delve into the motivations behind our actions, thoughts, and habits. I took the seminar with thirty other chaplains of a mix of different races and ages, and I turned out to be personality type number 3, labeled the "Achiever" or the "Performer." According to the enneagram theory, people with Type 3 personality are motivated by performing to the expectations of others for self-worth, tend to keep a busy schedule and are prone to burnout. Because they spend a lifetime trying to please others, they are often out-of-touch with their own desires and passions. In the seminar of thirty chaplains, I was the only person with a Type 3 personality. I was also the only Asian American woman attending the seminar.
In the following weeks, I talked with women in the young adult small group at my church about the enneagram personality types. Most of these women were Asian Americans. Among the five women, at least four of us felt strongly that we fell into the Type 3 personality on the enneagram, always driven to meet the expectations of others. In addition, it was the women, not the men, who identified themselves as Type 3. I was astounded that there were so many Type 3 among so small a group, when I was the only one amidst the group of thirty chaplains.
This discovery caused me to reflect upon the impact of culture on personality. What is it about being Taiwanese American females that drives us to perform to the expectations of others for our self-worth? Perhaps even more importantly, how is the Gospel message received by those of us who are Type 3? What aspect of the Good News do we especially need to hear?
In 1 Corinthians 9:20, Apostle Paul wrote, "To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews. To those under the law I became like one under the law…so as to win those under the law." Perhaps we need to fully understand what it means to be Asian American women in order to fully and effectively minister to other Asian American women. For this reason, I've come to see self-awareness as a worthwhile cause, and one to pursue with passion.
Joy Wong is pursuing a Masters of Divinity degree at Fuller Theological Seminary. Currently, she is the worship coordinator for the English congregation at Evangelical Formosan Church of Los Angeles. She and her husband live in Pasadena, California. To contact Joy, please send your inquiry to AAWOLblog@gmail.com.
I recently attended a seminar on a personality theory called the enneagram. In this theory, there are different personality types, numbered 1-9. The enneagram personality types delve into the motivations behind our actions, thoughts, and habits. I took the seminar with thirty other chaplains of a mix of different races and ages, and I turned out to be personality type number 3, labeled the "Achiever" or the "Performer." According to the enneagram theory, people with Type 3 personality are motivated by performing to the expectations of others for self-worth, tend to keep a busy schedule and are prone to burnout. Because they spend a lifetime trying to please others, they are often out-of-touch with their own desires and passions. In the seminar of thirty chaplains, I was the only person with a Type 3 personality. I was also the only Asian American woman attending the seminar.
In the following weeks, I talked with women in the young adult small group at my church about the enneagram personality types. Most of these women were Asian Americans. Among the five women, at least four of us felt strongly that we fell into the Type 3 personality on the enneagram, always driven to meet the expectations of others. In addition, it was the women, not the men, who identified themselves as Type 3. I was astounded that there were so many Type 3 among so small a group, when I was the only one amidst the group of thirty chaplains.
This discovery caused me to reflect upon the impact of culture on personality. What is it about being Taiwanese American females that drives us to perform to the expectations of others for our self-worth? Perhaps even more importantly, how is the Gospel message received by those of us who are Type 3? What aspect of the Good News do we especially need to hear?
In 1 Corinthians 9:20, Apostle Paul wrote, "To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews. To those under the law I became like one under the law…so as to win those under the law." Perhaps we need to fully understand what it means to be Asian American women in order to fully and effectively minister to other Asian American women. For this reason, I've come to see self-awareness as a worthwhile cause, and one to pursue with passion.
Joy Wong is pursuing a Masters of Divinity degree at Fuller Theological Seminary. Currently, she is the worship coordinator for the English congregation at Evangelical Formosan Church of Los Angeles. She and her husband live in Pasadena, California. To contact Joy, please send your inquiry to AAWOLblog@gmail.com.
August 19, 2008
the whole picture
by Joy Wong
As a hospital chaplain intern, I visit a diverse variety of patients. One particular patient who stood out in my mind was an 89-year-old Asian man who had suffered a stroke. When I first visited him, he seemed non-responsive. His eyes were open but fixed upon the corner of the room, not on the television or upon me. There was no indication that he knew I was in the room; he didn't acknowledge my presence. His patient chart noted that he was a Christian originally from Taiwan.
On my second visit, I decided to sing some Taiwanese songs to him. As before, his eyes were open but were not making any eye contact. I first sang a Taiwanese worship song, but that did not draw much of a response. I then sang a Mandarin worship song, which also did not evoke anything out of the ordinary. Finally, I sang an old, familiar Taiwanese folk song. As soon I began singing the folk song, the patient began making noises with his mouth as his eyes welled with tears. I was startled, but happy that I had made some sort of connection with him.
This experience caused me to reflect on the significance of our identity. This patient was moved not by a Christian song, but rather a folk song, probably one that had been sung and heard many times throughout his life. Each of us has a cultural identity, whether it is a specific culture, a mix of two or three cultures, or some combination of various traditions of our childhood and upbringing. When we encounter something that speaks to that cultural identity, it moves us. I believe it is because it evokes emotions from our longing for familiarity, belonging, and our home.
God is our ultimate Parent and ultimate home and our identity as Christians is important, but our earthly, cultural identity is also God's intention. I believe our cultural identities need to be discovered and fully embraced in order to delve deeply into our knowledge of God. After all, our understanding of God must be grasped as who God made us to be, including our ethnicity, background, and upbringing. For Asian American evangelical women, the lens through which we see God will become ever clearer as we learn to love and embrace the entirety of who God made us to be.
Joy Wong is pursuing a Masters of Divinity degree at Fuller Theological Seminary. Currently, she is the worship coordinator for the English congregation at Evangelical Formosan Church of Los Angeles. She and her husband live in Pasadena, California. To contact Joy, please send your inquiry to AAWOLblog@gmail.com.
As a hospital chaplain intern, I visit a diverse variety of patients. One particular patient who stood out in my mind was an 89-year-old Asian man who had suffered a stroke. When I first visited him, he seemed non-responsive. His eyes were open but fixed upon the corner of the room, not on the television or upon me. There was no indication that he knew I was in the room; he didn't acknowledge my presence. His patient chart noted that he was a Christian originally from Taiwan.
On my second visit, I decided to sing some Taiwanese songs to him. As before, his eyes were open but were not making any eye contact. I first sang a Taiwanese worship song, but that did not draw much of a response. I then sang a Mandarin worship song, which also did not evoke anything out of the ordinary. Finally, I sang an old, familiar Taiwanese folk song. As soon I began singing the folk song, the patient began making noises with his mouth as his eyes welled with tears. I was startled, but happy that I had made some sort of connection with him.
This experience caused me to reflect on the significance of our identity. This patient was moved not by a Christian song, but rather a folk song, probably one that had been sung and heard many times throughout his life. Each of us has a cultural identity, whether it is a specific culture, a mix of two or three cultures, or some combination of various traditions of our childhood and upbringing. When we encounter something that speaks to that cultural identity, it moves us. I believe it is because it evokes emotions from our longing for familiarity, belonging, and our home.
God is our ultimate Parent and ultimate home and our identity as Christians is important, but our earthly, cultural identity is also God's intention. I believe our cultural identities need to be discovered and fully embraced in order to delve deeply into our knowledge of God. After all, our understanding of God must be grasped as who God made us to be, including our ethnicity, background, and upbringing. For Asian American evangelical women, the lens through which we see God will become ever clearer as we learn to love and embrace the entirety of who God made us to be.
Joy Wong is pursuing a Masters of Divinity degree at Fuller Theological Seminary. Currently, she is the worship coordinator for the English congregation at Evangelical Formosan Church of Los Angeles. She and her husband live in Pasadena, California. To contact Joy, please send your inquiry to AAWOLblog@gmail.com.
July 24, 2008
an answer to prayer
by Joy Wong
Many years ago, God put on my heart the need for Asian-American women mentorship. At the time, I was one of four worship leaders at an Asian church, and the only female worship leader. At the monthly worship leaders' meeting, it became very apparent that my struggles and insecurities as a female worship leader were very different from those of my male counterparts. As such, I struggled to voice my opinions because I sensed that my perspectives were very different from those of my male co-leaders. This made me question whether I really belonged on leadership. Without other female leaders who shared my feelings, insecurities, and perspectives, I often felt very much alone.
During this time, I also observed a strange phenomenon at my church. The pastors often spoke of raising up leaders and empowerment, ideas that made me very excited to be a part of the church. However, over time, only men were moving into positions of leadership, while the women – including many who were more spiritually mature than the men – seemed to be hitting a glass ceiling. I came to realize that the women who aspired to leadership did not have any mentors within pastoral leadership. Both pastors of the church were male; they encouraged and shepherded the women in the congregation with the same care as the men. But mentorship required consistent one-on-one relationships, and the pastors found it inappropriate to engage with the women in this way. Even though such reasoning was understandable, the absence of women in pastoral leadership perpetuated the absence of women in church leadership in general.
This was a particular burden on my heart when I came to Fuller Theological Seminary to study theology. I wanted to fill the gap of mentorship for Asian-American women. But I also recognized that I need to be mentored before I can lead and mentor others. I prayed and waited. After several years of waiting, I was introduced to AAWOL. I immediately knew that this organization of women could provide the mentorship I needed and yearned for; they were the answer to my long-held prayer. Thus began my journey with AAWOL, and I have never looked back.
Joy Wong is pursuing a Masters of Divinity degree at Fuller Theological Seminary. Currently, she is the worship coordinator for the English congregation at Evangelical Formosan Church of Los Angeles. She and her husband live in Pasadena, California. To contact Joy, please send your inquiry to AAWOLblog@gmail.com.
Many years ago, God put on my heart the need for Asian-American women mentorship. At the time, I was one of four worship leaders at an Asian church, and the only female worship leader. At the monthly worship leaders' meeting, it became very apparent that my struggles and insecurities as a female worship leader were very different from those of my male counterparts. As such, I struggled to voice my opinions because I sensed that my perspectives were very different from those of my male co-leaders. This made me question whether I really belonged on leadership. Without other female leaders who shared my feelings, insecurities, and perspectives, I often felt very much alone.
During this time, I also observed a strange phenomenon at my church. The pastors often spoke of raising up leaders and empowerment, ideas that made me very excited to be a part of the church. However, over time, only men were moving into positions of leadership, while the women – including many who were more spiritually mature than the men – seemed to be hitting a glass ceiling. I came to realize that the women who aspired to leadership did not have any mentors within pastoral leadership. Both pastors of the church were male; they encouraged and shepherded the women in the congregation with the same care as the men. But mentorship required consistent one-on-one relationships, and the pastors found it inappropriate to engage with the women in this way. Even though such reasoning was understandable, the absence of women in pastoral leadership perpetuated the absence of women in church leadership in general.
This was a particular burden on my heart when I came to Fuller Theological Seminary to study theology. I wanted to fill the gap of mentorship for Asian-American women. But I also recognized that I need to be mentored before I can lead and mentor others. I prayed and waited. After several years of waiting, I was introduced to AAWOL. I immediately knew that this organization of women could provide the mentorship I needed and yearned for; they were the answer to my long-held prayer. Thus began my journey with AAWOL, and I have never looked back.
Joy Wong is pursuing a Masters of Divinity degree at Fuller Theological Seminary. Currently, she is the worship coordinator for the English congregation at Evangelical Formosan Church of Los Angeles. She and her husband live in Pasadena, California. To contact Joy, please send your inquiry to AAWOLblog@gmail.com.
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