Yesterday, I attended an event hosted by Redeemer Presbyterian Church featuring a conversation between renowned Redeemer Pastor Tim Keller and my own personal hero Bryan Stevenson, author of “Just Mercy” and founder of the Equal Justice Initiative.

I have been looking forward to this event for months, because I view these two men as my spiritual mentors.  Through their books (and Keller’s sermons), they have guided me in my life, both personally and for my vocation.  I participated in numerous book clubs for Keller’s books (“The Reason for God,” “The Meaning of Marriage,” and “Every Good Endeavor”), and he’s helped shape my outlook on my faith, marriage, and my career/calling. And as I mentioned before, Stevenson’s “Just Mercy” spoke deeply to my heart on the topic of social justice and was one of the main drivers of considering law school.

Though I heard Stevenson speak last year at the Brooklyn Historical Society (and I’ve listened to his numerous talks/interviews online), I still felt moved and inspired hearing the same stories that I’ve heard before. He told the familiar, but still gut-wrenching narratives of condemned death row prisoners he’s helped to exonerate and the ones he couldn’t save.  He gave us applications for our own lives to help and serve those in need as he spoke to the power of proximity, changing our deeply ingrained narratives, placing ourselves in uncomfortable situations, but ultimately staying hopeful through it all.

When it came to the book signing portion of the evening, I was so nervous and excited I could hardly contain myself.  I couldn’t believe I was finally able to meet the man who had such a deep impact on my life.  The last time I met someone I truly admired (Poet Billy Collins), I acted like a bumbling idiot, so I knew I had to be focused. When it was my turn to get my book signed, I feverishly shared with him how his book had changed my life and how I’ll be attending law school because of him.  I also told him I’ll be attending NYU and will be taking his courses/clinic; I didn’t just tell him I hoped to… I said (very definitively) that I would.  He was very kind and gracious to my frantic clamor and sent me off by saying “See you in class!”

Some excerpts from Stevenson’s book:

“Proximity has taught me some basic and humbling truths, including this vital lesson: Each of us is more than the worst thing we’ve ever done. My work with the poor and the incarcerated has persuaded me that the opposite of poverty is not wealth; the opposite of poverty is justice. Finally, I’ve come to believe that the true measure of our commitment to justice, the character of our society, our commitment to the rule of law, fairness, and equality cannot be measured by how we treat the rich, the powerful, the privileged, and the respected among us. The true measure of our character is how we treat the poor, the disfavored, the accused, the incarcerated, and the condemned.”

“There is a strength, a power even, in understanding brokenness, because embracing our brokenness creates a need and desire for mercy, and perhaps a corresponding need to show mercy. When you experience mercy, you learn things that are hard to learn otherwise. You see things you can’t otherwise see; you hear things you can’t otherwise hear. You begin to recognize the humanity that resides in each of us.”

“The power of just mercy is that it belongs to the undeserving. It’s when mercy is least expected that it’s most potent—strong enough to break the cycle of victimization and victimhood, retribution and suffering. It has the power to heal the psychic harm and injuries that lead to aggression and violence, abuse of power, mass incarceration.”

This past week has been a huge sigh of relief.

God has answered so many prayers as I got accepted to NYU Law, my top choice school, and received a surprisingly generous scholarship.  Not only will I stay in the city that I wasn’t ready to leave, but I will also be (fingers-crossed) studying under the professor who has inspired me to pursue this career path.

After my friends have been congratulating me about getting in, I graciously cheered along with them and asked (semi-jokingly), “Wait, does this mean I actually have to go to school now?”

I started this journey, looking towards each step as a short-term goal in isolation for the sake of not getting overwhelmed.  First step was taking (and doing well) on the LSATs, the following step was applying to schools, the next step was figuring out all my financial aid issues, and now I’m at the step of getting accepted.  Accomplishing all these steps, I didn’t have too much time to dwell and get freaked out about the thought of actually attending school.  And now it’s hitting me hard. All the doubts are seeping in full-fledged speed as I’m going to endeavor the hardest years of my academic life.  But even in the midst of my concerns and anxiety, I felt affirmed and convicted this week as I had some pivotal conversations with people in the legal field who are loving their work (I found this a rather rare disposition among lawyers) and were extremely encouraging about my upcoming career shift.

From today’s John Piper devotional:

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” (Matthew 5:5)

Meekness begins when we put our trust in God. Then, because we trust him, we commit our way to him. We roll onto him our anxieties, our frustrations, our plans, our relationships, our jobs, our health.

As I start to pursue this career, I should keep these words in mind and carry them close to my heart.  Most people probably wouldn’t associate the characteristic of “meekness” with lawyers. And though law school might carry my head into lofty territory, I have to keep humbling myself to a place of surrender.  I didn’t get to where I am merely out of my own strength and aptitude. Ultimately what I do with my career, the people that I meet, and the ways I can help them are not (at least entirely) in my control.   I can only put my best foot forward, and God will take care of the rest.

These past few months have not been easy, but something I’ve really come to appreciate are my friendships.  Throughout all the moments of emotional anxiety and heightened neuroticism that I’ve displayed, my friends have been nothing but loving, encouraging, and gracious.  I really don’t know what I’d do without them.

Out of their care & concern, my friends spent a full night of this past week dedicated to my upcoming decision. One of my more “mathematical” friends decided we should, in true consulting fashion, lay out all the different factors that could potentially affect my decision and rank/score them for each school.  I was reluctant at first, especially considering I’m someone who makes decisions based on my gut and thought such an exercise would be futile.  I argued that this might just be like that one Friends episode where Ross was making a pro/cons list on Rachel vs Julie, and his “not Rachem” factor outweighed all others.  But my friends insisted that even if this exercise will help me come to my “not Rachem” epiphany, it’ll still be helpful regardless.

So I obliged (whiteboard, spreadsheets, & all) and it was admittedly very helpful to be able to sort out my thoughts and concerns. And though I didn’t land on a conclusion (quite yet), I think delineating all these considerations helped me figure out what factors were most important to me and physically seeing the computed scores helped me see things more clearly.  Maybe I’m more of a numbers girl than I thought?

Its frightening how our wildest fears are being realized as Trump is ensuring his candidacy as the Republican nominee.  This is supposed to be the type of incredulous unraveling of events that occur in a popular Netflix series or an outrageously satirical political film – not real life.  But I guess fact can seriously, and scarily, be stranger than fiction.

With all this crazy election drama happening in our midst, I can’t help reminiscing about happier times. While I watched Obama’s speech at his White House Correspondent dinner this year, I couldn’t help but mourn the departure of our composed and charming POTUS.  Yeah, he’s not perfect and I didn’t agree with all of his policies, but he was likable, intelligent, and sincere.  And given his background and upbringing, his story felt like a true underdog tale.  I remember reading “Dreams from My Father” and feeling inspired & hopeful, reading about someone who overcame and rose above a challenging, fragmented past.  He was the president of my adulthood, and the first & only president I voted for.  In late 2007, I was living in Seoul at the time following the campaign news & updates, and I remember feeling a strong urgency to move back to the US to rally for Obama and eventually see him get inaugurated.  I still remember driving back from west LA during rush hour to my hometown of Hacienda Heights to vote for him at our local polling place (Good Shepherds Church on Colima Rd).  I remember going into church with my grandma, who was also voting for Obama (simply on the rationale that he reminded her of our grandpa) and being filled with an almost naive sense of pride and patriotism.  As his campaign so effectively branded him, Obama embodied hope to its fullest extent.

Aside from being the relatable, congenial person that he is, Obama’s presidency stood for something bigger than himself. Like Larry Wilmore said in his “roast” during the WHCD:  “I always joked that I voted for the president because he’s black. People would say, ‘Do you agree with his policies?’ I’d say, ‘I agree with the policy that he’s black. As long as he keeps being black, I’m good… But behind that joke is a humble appreciation for the historical implications for what your presidency means. When I was a kid, I lived in a country where people wouldn’t accept a black quarterback. Now think about that, a black man was thought by his mere color, not good enough to lead a football team. And now, to live in your time, Mr. President, when a black man can lead the entire free world. Words alone do me no justice.'”

Oh how I’ll miss you, dear president.