I'm a type A personality and an ISTJ according to the Meyers-Brigg test. So to put me in a nutshell, I'm an uptight, achievement driven maniac, whose ideal job is apparently dictator. Because of this, people assume that I have a tiger mom like Amy Chua or something. But my mom was quite right to say that in comparison to most Asian mothers, my mom is a chicken mom. (How appropriate, considering Chua's zodiac symbol is a tiger and my mom's is the chicken.) The truth is, I grew up in an environment in which no one really expected anything from me. Or rather, the only thing they expected me to be was mediocre. If my parents had known that reverse psychology would work on me, then it was quite a brilliant parenting strategy. Since no one else seemed to be holding me to any respectable standards, I learned to set borderline unrealistic expectations for myself. When I was young, it was okay because ridiculous expectations only applied to school.

But as I've grown older and my life has expanded beyond the confines of academia, I've found that these standards can do more harm than good. It's no longer enough to simply be a good student. I had to be a good daughter too. I had to be a good friend. I had to be a good person. And worst of all, I had to be a good Christian. And as an ISTJ, it's not difficult for me to be good at doing things. But there's one thing that pretty much everyone else in the world is better at doing-- feeling. It's easy for me to give money to someone in need, even if I think it's their own fault for being in such a situation. It's not easy for me to feel sorry for them or to actually care about their well-being (in most cases, in the US).  It's easy to read the Bible and think and even know that Jesus is the best new for any human being. It's easy to believe how precious and loving and wonderful he is. And yet it seems impossible for the most intense, cognitive reflection on who God is for us in Christ to stir up any emotion or affection in my heart.

So much, it seems, of what I have achieved has been so simply because I willed it. But there is one which still perpetually eludes me. After all, it's not something that I can achieve, no matter how much more it would mean than all the accomplishments in this world. And it is this, to be the kind of person that attracts others to Christ. To love so deeply and treasure so dearly that people can scarcely help but to want to know Him too. That is the kind of love that makes others see and believe. That is the kind of love that he deserves. Anything less just seems like a waste.