I never thought that I would become a Christian
Early Memories & The Search for Healing
My paternal grandparents had nine sons and two daughters, and my dad is the third child in the family. The only two daughters—my aunts—are Christian, while the rest of the family practiced a combination of Taoism and Buddhism. When I was a young child, my aunts used to bring me to church. I am not entirely sure, but I do remember them bringing me to an event where prayers were offered for the sick and those with mobility challenges. My younger aunt especially asked me to pray before sleeping, and she would ask me if I practiced night prayers every time we met. I only prayed once in a while when I remembered, but out of fear of her, I lied and said I prayed every night. After some time, I told her the truth and stopped praying altogether.
I was the only child with a disability in both my paternal and maternal families until I was 14 years old, when my dad’s second brother had his fourth and youngest son, who was born with learning disabilities. As a child with cerebral palsy (CP), my parents took me to various temples to seek healing. Whenever someone recommended a deity famous for healing, my parents would give it a try if the location was reachable by motorbike. I can still remember being taken to a temple at midnight every week when I was about five years old. At that time, my parents were helping out at my dad’s fourth brother's kopitiam (coffee shop), where we also stayed, and the temple was nearby. I was also dedicated to Kuan Yin at a very young age for protection, good health, and a smooth upbringing under her guardianship. My mum especially made it a point to visit the Kuan Yin temple during her three primary festival days (the 19th day of the 2nd, 6th, and 9th lunar months) to offer thanks and refresh my protective energy. She continued this practice until 2021, and I would sometimes accompany her.
When I was in Form 3, I asked to try a temple myself after my mum’s eldest brother told us about it. After dinner, my uncle and aunt would pick up my mum and me two or three times a week to go there. A medium at the temple would pray over my water bottle. I drank the blessed water daily, and my mum kept filling the bottle before it ran dry. I felt a psychological improvement when I suddenly tried to step up and down a curb without holding onto anything, and I succeeded! However, we stopped going after a few months. That was the first and last time I personally chose to seek healing for my disability through a spiritual medium.
After my first two suicide attempts in 2001, I was taken to several temples for healing and spiritual cleansing, even after my family was informed that my distress was caused by exposure to domestic violence. Relatives and friends introduced these temples and accompanied my mum and me to them. During this time, I was not allowed to take the medication prescribed by my psychiatrist. That was also the year I began practicing a strictly vegetarian diet for ten days during the Nine Emperor Gods Festival in the ninth lunar month, as requested by one of the temples. I ended up enjoying this ten-day vegetarian practice every year for over 20 years. I remember how my Malay classmate, Kak Jameyah, would go to the roadside vegetarian stall every day to buy food for me during those ten days in my first year at USM. In my third year, my roommate Mun, who is Christian, would cycle to the stall outside USM to buy my daily vegetarian meals.
There was another temple my mum strongly believed in, which she visited whenever issues arose regarding our health or well-being. She would return with small red packets of religious powder or rectangular yellow talisman papers. She would pray and mix the powder with drinking water, then feed me three teaspoons or ask us to drink it three times before dabbing the water onto our foreheads and bodies. For the talisman papers, she would burn them, mix the ashes in a cup of water, and use it for drinking and wiping. My mum only stopped visiting this temple after the passing of the elderly lady who ran it and her son, who had the ability to perceive and interact with the spiritual realm.
I wore a protective string on my right wrist, which I first received from a temple and later renewed at the Maharama Buddhist Temple on Kampar Road. I cannot recall whether I started wearing it after my suicide attempts or years before. I began visiting the Kampar Road temple in Form 1 because it was close to my secondary school, SMK Sri Mutiara. My mum, who cycled me to school, would often stop by the temple with me to pray before classes. Additionally, another aunt brought me a small yellow cloth bearing an image of Buddha after my suicide attempts. I kept this protective cloth inside my wallet and carried it everywhere. Every year, weeks before Chinese New Year, my mum and I would visit the temple to reserve a devotional lamp inscribed with our Chinese names to be lit on the first day of the New Year.
Family Altars, Vows & Cultural Roots
When my mum fell critically ill with a subarachnoid hemorrhage shortly after I finished my studies at USM, she was scheduled for a coiling procedure. My cousin—my mum’s eldest sister’s daughter—took me to the Kampar Road Buddhist Temple to pray. There, I made a vow to observe a vegetarian diet on the 1st and 15th days of every lunar month for as long as my mum recovered and lived. I began the diet the very next day. The procedure was successful, and my mum made a full recovery. A few years later, I also began observing a vegetarian diet on Kuan Yin’s three special feast days.
In December 2006, I met a man with CP who was a PhD graduate from UPM (Universiti Putra Malaysia) while attending our annual National Seminar on CP in Johor. A few days after returning home, we started keeping in touch via SMS and Yahoo Messenger. I was thrilled to chat with him and looked forward to his messages every day. Our connection felt like it was growing quickly. However, I also felt a deep sense of sadness because we did not share the same faith. I felt it would be impossible for me to convert from Buddhism to Christianity for him. What would happen to my mum, especially when she passed away, if I abandoned Buddhism and Taoism? How would I honor her and perform ancestor prayers? As it turned out, I had misinterpreted our relationship and overthought things—it was my first time experiencing such feelings, but we were ultimately just friends.
When I was in Standard 1, my family moved back to my paternal grandparents' house due to financial constraints. My eldest uncle and his family had just moved into their new home, leaving two other uncles living with us until I reached secondary school. My grandparents lived at my fourth uncle’s plant nursery, and my grandmother only moved back to the main house when the nursery closed in 2020.
My mum was the one who performed the daily household prayers. Four deities were enshrined in my grandparents' house: Thi Kong (the Jade Emperor or Lord of Heaven), Tua Pek Kong (Grand Uncle), Chau Kun King (the Kitchen God), and Tee Chu Kong (the Lord of the Land). When my grandfather passed away after I completed Standard 3, an ancestor tablet was placed near Tua Pek Kong to honor him. Every morning, my mum would burn incense for each deity and the ancestor tablet. She would also light candles and offer tea and fruit on the 1st and 15th days of the lunar calendar.
I only prayed to all four deities during Chinese New Year, usually on the first day. Standing before each shrine, I would press my palms together, move them gently up and down, and quietly ask for good health and peace. On ordinary days, I would pray to my late grandfather in the same manner, though during special prayer occasions, my mum would help me hold and offer lighted incense.
I also participated in the Pai Thi Kong celebration during the early morning of the 9th day of the Lunar New Year. We held a grand celebration at my paternal grandparents' house, where most of my uncles, aunts, and cousins gathered to pray. We set out elaborate offerings on large tables in the front yard: chicken, duck, eggs, one or two roast pigs, dried vegetables, fruits, and traditional kuih. Sugarcane stalks were tied to both sides of the front table. Prayers began around midnight and continued until 1:00 AM, when my family burned Gold Joss Paper (Kim Chua). That night, the loud crackle of firecrackers and fireworks echoed all across Penang. After the ritual, my family carved the roast pig to share with neighbors, relatives, and friends. We would then cook mee suah (longevity noodles), and everyone stayed to enjoy the noodles with boiled eggs and roast pork. I only went to bed after eating my bowl of mee suah.
While studying at USM, I could not return home for the celebration. Instead, I would step outside my hostel, press my palms together, and pray quietly for a few minutes—my own unique way of observing Pai Thi Kong. Later, when my mum and I moved into our own apartment, we continued this tradition by praying together through our living room window while watching the fireworks light up the Penang sky. The next morning, my mum would take five types of fruit and her folded Joss Paper to the temple for formal prayers.
Decades of Buddhist Devotion
Looking back, I practiced Buddhism much more than Taoism. When I entered Form 5, our school welcomed a new principal, a Datin whose name I no longer recall. She introduced daily morning assemblies before class instead of weekly ones. Each assembly began with a prayer led by a Malay student, followed by announcements. She also distributed printed cards featuring the standard daily Pali chant, the Tisarana ("The Three Refuges" or "The Triple Gem"), and encouraged those Buddhist students to chant it silently in our hearts during the morning prayer. I kept the card in my wallet and disciplined myself to recite the chant daily until the three verses became second nature to me.
In Form 4 and Form 5 Sejarah (History), every student learned the fundamentals of Malaysia's major religions: Islam, Christianity, Buddhism, and Hinduism. That was where I gained a formal understanding of Buddhism. I wished to attend Buddhist Sunday School, but my physical disability and lack of transportation prevented me. As a result, I self-studied Buddhism throughout my university years and working life. My close friend Kak Jameyah and I even chose a topic related to Buddhism for a university coursework assignment, comparing aspects of Islam and Buddhism.
Over the years, I completed several online Buddhism courses, listened to Hokkien Dharma talks by a monk, and read books brought home by my brother or given by friends. However, my engagement was often inconsistent when practicing alone. I would start an activity with great enthusiasm, gradually slow down, and eventually stop, only to resume months or years later. This inconsistency was a personal struggle, though my commitment to the vegetarian observances remained steadfast.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, as many organizations moved online, I joined a Buddhist group that hosted weekly talks. In addition to completing a six-week course, I participated in their online Chinese New Year programs either in 2021 or 2022 while working fully from home.
Looking Ahead to Part 2
So, how did I end up converting to Christianity after nearly 40 years of practicing Buddhism and Taoism? Follow my next post to find out!
A quick note: From this post onward, I’m using AI to help refine my writing and express my thoughts more clearly.
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