This wasn’t supposed to happen. By now, I should’ve been in medical school. Or at least medical school bound. But then a failed class in genetics, a few retreats, and a couple of summer missions trips later, here I am.

I still remember fifth-grade social studies class, talking about the hot topic of current events of the day: George H.W. Bush or Gov. William Clinton for President ’92. I’m sure I didn’t have the slightest idea about American politics at the time. But that particular moment still stands out. Fast forward to the present and much has changed. Another Bush is in power with another Clinton vying for the position in a few years. I have graduated college and am financially independent. The world is a much different place than it was in 1992.

I am also a Christian now. I grew up in the church. I did the Sunday School thing and the youth group thing. But that didn’t make me a Christian. College did. God took me, shook me, and transformed me. I am a Christian now. I believe in Jesus Christ. And I believe that He wants to transform the world.

One sleepless night, while channel surfing, I came across this TV special. I expected only to see syndicated reruns or infomercials at 3am. But this one program was something else. To this date, I have yet to find a show like the one I saw that night. It was about the role of United States ambassadors to foreign nations—a documentary following the lives of three ambassadors to Japan, Kenya, and some other country. I felt nerdy watching it at the time, but I couldn’t change the channel. It was calling me.

There’s a time in every college senior’s life when he/she goes through an anxiety attack pertaining to the future. For me, it came at Harvest Mission Community Church’s Undergraduate Retreat. I had no jobs lined up, no plans for graduate school, no idea what the heck I was going to do with my life. Then, Pastor Seth spoke at the last night. It was the revolutionary call, a call to young students to give up their lives for Christ. I met God that night. He gave me a direction. I felt peace.

I had never thought about missions work. I had no inclination to give up electricity and hot, running water to live in the jungles of the Amazon or the savannahs of Africa. Then one of my spiritual mentors rebuked me. He called me selfish. Something happened, and I found myself saying I’d go on a summer missions trip. I went to Cambodia and Thailand soon after. It was hard. I didn’t know what I was doing half the time. Okay, maybe all the time. But then God met me. And He used me.

I have an identity crisis. I think by nature, I am a cynic. And when dealing with international governance, it is nearly impossible to survive without being a cynic. Well, that’s just my opinion. You may beg to differ. I respect that. But how could one not be cynical upon seeing perpetual injustices under the watch of government officials? It is a difficult sight, watching the ruling class abuse its power and be committed to unspeakable atrocities against its own people and others.

But on the flip side, I am hopeful. I don’t exactly know how to justify being cynical and hopeful at the same time, but I am. I am hopeful because when there is hope in Jesus Christ, there is hope for humanity. When I see Christians making a difference in society with humility there are reasons to hope. And the government is a realm in which a difference ought to be made. So that government can serve the people and make the world a better place.

So this is why I’m here. Not medical school bound. I’m here gripped with the dream that God can use me to influence the world. I’m here holding fast to the directive of speaking for the voiceless, the marginalized, the oppressed, and the less fortunate.