Singapore is a country very much like the United States, with every known religion and belief you can think of; yet I was born into a Buddhist (Taoist) family. I grew up going to temples, worshipping idols, burning paper incense, offering food and praying to idols as gods.

People often say, “All things in time.” However, perhaps it’s more accurate to say, “All things according to HIS timing.”

I was born in 1970s Korea—a country that, was closer to its rural agricultural roots than to the glistening technological hub it is known as today. My birth mother was a young, single woman at a time when pregnancy out of wedlock was not allowed. In fact, such a pregnancy risked shaming not only the woman herself but her entire family.

In the spring of 2011 I was diagnosed with cancer which was first believed to be lung cancer. Fortunately it was later determined to be lymphoma. This certainly was a more hopeful diagnosis although it was Stage 4 because it had metastasized and spread to other parts of my body. Undaunted the wonderful staff at UT Southwestern Simmons Cancer Center began the prescribed chemotherapy treatments. Although I was hopeful grave doubts consumed me. I prayed like never before and asked God to heal me. At the same time my prayer was also surrendering my will to God believing that whatever the outcome, it was His Will not mine and I trusted God completely.

This is one of my all-time favorite stories. God is so awesome and He hears our prayers.

First, a little background… When I’m REALLY upset or depressed, I go through a fast food drive-through, get a chocolate shake and drive over to the cemetery, any cemetery, they’re all the same. (A little trick taught to me by my mom).

My name is Gary and I’m a recovering drug addict. My addiction to drugs started at age twelve in 1972 and my battle with drugs still rages inside me today.

My story will consist of 3 parts. First will be the introduction.

I first experienced God’s presence in my life in 1973 when I received the body of Christ.  I was askinny eight year old with hair that refused order and preferred hanging in unkempt strands. My FirstCommunion dress was delicately and lovingly made by my proud mother; it was simple yet pretty, but lacked the sequence and glamour that surrounded me.  I was not a sequence and glamour girl.  I would have preferred to arm wrestle, dress and all, “those” girls or better yet, their older brothers!