A Daughter's Reflection
I delivered this reflection at mum’s celebration of life service on Saturday, July 10, 2021.
Thank you so much for joining me today to remember and celebrate mum's life. I have been overwhelmed by the amount of love, support, and prayers that have poured in since mum's passing. I'm grateful for dear friends who came and sat with me right after I got the news, who stood by me at the funeral, those who checked on me to make sure I slept and ate, those who sent me food and grief pandas, those who let me sit and talk about mum. My friends who helped put together this service. Thank you PD and Gigi and Oyan and Arlene - my IES and IES Christ the King family.
And thank you for those who have taken the time to share your memories of mum with me. I heard from a lot of mum's colleagues and former students about their experiences with her. Irine and, and Dovieke in her video, commented that her year was rowdy. I mean Putra and Jippy in one class? They said they would make mum have to take her blood pressure medication. I think, though, I've got them beat. My mum started having high blood pressure giving birth to me. So I think I permanently elevated her blood pressure.
Growing up going to the same school mum worked at, I always struggled with the label of Ibu Magda's daughter. I was known as Ibu Magda's daughter, and it chafed then. But I'm here in front of you now, very proud and honored to be Ibu Magda's daughter. So please let me share a little bit about my mum.
Mum was a very private person and she was an introvert, so I think a lot of people who didn't know her mistake her as being distant or even callous. But she's not. She really loved and cared for people. She loved her students; they were like her own kids. She cared for her colleagues; she often stopped what she's doing to pray for them. She cared for her congregation members, often staying with them at hospitals and when they're going through difficult situations. She cared for my friends, always asking about them and even cooking for them - something that started out back in high school and carried on til a May of this year. And she loved me. Very well. The last time I physically saw mum was early in June when I had an ear infection. I called her to tell her that I was in a lot of pain and that I was uncomfortable. So she told me she was going to take a gojek to my place to bring me medicine and to rub my back. I panicked because she's so stubborn she might have done it. She ended up talking my uncle to drive her, even when I insisted I was fine. Even before she was hospitalized, and when they thought the whole household had gotten the flu, she was adamant that I don't come and do our weekly visits because she didn't want me to get the flu. That's my mum.
Mum loved to learn. She always wanted to know how something worked, not merely accepting that that's the way it is. She always had a notebook with her so she can jot down sermon notes and different things she learned. She wanted to know how my Google home worked, always coming up to my hub and telling Google to do all sorts of stuff. I remember sitting at my kitchen, exasperatedly trying to explain cryptocurrencies to her. She wanted to know.
Mum also loved teaching. She taught me a lot of things.
She taught me Biology. I remember her sitting on the floor of my room with me for two hours trying to get me to understand cell division. Science is not my thing.
She taught me how to cook. When I was in Seattle, I would call her and had her talk me through how to make a certain dish that I was craving to eat. Her last few days, she asked me to make her soup and send that to the hospital. She told me exactly what she wanted in the soup.
She taught me how to do my make up, and how to walk in heels. I was looking through old photos, and mum's style was always on point. Before she opted for comfort, she walked around Israel and Europe in heels. It was no surprise that I develop a love for shoes.
Mum taught me how to harmonize and would often sit next to me at a piano and sing with me. Even when I didn't want her to. When I sing through something to figure out the harmonies, it's her voice I hear in my head.
She taught me how to pray and how to fast. I didn't like fasting very much.
Mum also taught me how to preach. The verse 2 Timothy 4:7 is on your programs. It's very true in mum's case as well as the apostle Paul's. But this verse and the ones before and after it, is special to me. When I was 11, mum coached me to preach a 10-minute sermon. That was my first sermon ever. It was on those verses.
Mum was the best person to be my mother. Because she was a pastor's kid, she understood my struggles growing up. Even when my dad was busy with ministry, she was there for volleyball games and concerts and recitals and musicals. She was there.
Because she was a pastor herself, she understood my struggles as a pastor.
She was the best person to be my mother because I'm a lot like her. Growing up, we fought a lot. It wasn't until my senior year of high school when we realized that we fought a lot because we were so similar. She understood me and knew how to parent me.
She had strength of character, and perseverance, and she knew her worth and spoke truth. Even when it was difficult. Especially when it was difficult. I was strong willed and stubborn and mouthy. I still am. As I was growing up, she was the disciplinarian. She knew that I needed discipline and guidance to really get it and mature. Not change who I am, but
She was fine with me being independent and out of the box, because she was that way too. She didn't get married until she was 30. She had me at 38. She gave up a medical career for the adventure of doing ministry. Just this year, she was sitting in my kitchen eating bakso and nonchalantly told me that she and my dad eloped. Not because my grandparents disapproved, but because it was just practical. That's why there are no wedding photos of them around.
She didn't put expectations on me to get married or have kids or have a successful career. She didn't even expect me to pastor her church after her. The only things she wanted for me were for me to be who God has created me to be, and for me to love Jesus.
And she loved Jesus.
She didn't just teach me about faith, she showed me faith.
The woman who smuggled Bibles into China - got caught - and walked out unscathed. The woman who carried a baby to full term knowing that there was a tumor that could endanger her life and the baby's life. That woman showed me what faith is. When I was considering leaving a perfectly good job at a church in Seattle to be part of a church plant, taking a massive pay cut, a lot of people told me that was crazy. She told me that if that was what God was calling me to do, I will need to step out in faith. I did. And God provided for me. And she was there, coaching me and praying for me and cheering me on, every step of the way.
She didn't just teach me about grace, she showed me grace.
If you don't get it by now, I was a difficult child. Probably a difficult adult child too. The last couple of years, I thought that she had mellowed out with age. I think I told her that too. I thought she was way too nice to people who didn't deserve it. I think I saw that as weakness, but I was wrong. It was strength. It was grace. She was gracious to me for thinking that. I didn't show her love as well as I should have, I always had my own idea of how to love her, and she forgave me. She showed me grace. She didn't mellow out. She knew that she didn't need to steamroll through life. She was becoming more like Jesus.
She wasn’t perfect, not at all. I’m not here to tell you she was. But her struggles, her limitations, her humanity pointed to a reliance on a good and perfect God. That in and through her life, God’s Grace is enough.
I'll end with this. My mother couldn't stand being idle. She's just always doing something. And working. She was afraid that if she stopped working, she'd go senile. She wouldn't listen when I tell her to rest. This one time last year, I even had to give the phone to my friend, Josh, and have him talk her into taking a break. It was like she had a race to finish.
Mum did fight the good fight. She did finish the race well. And she kept the faith. So now, if I may quote Dickens, “It is a far, far better rest that [mum goes to], than what [she] has ever known.” She is greatly missed, but she is with her Jesus.